The Poseidon Adventure: The Fifty-Second Hunger Games
by LadyCordeliaStuart
Summary: This one's going to be stupid fun. Both stupidly fun and just stupid, not gonna lie.
1. Chapter 1

**I finished the last one, so time for a new one!**

 **I'm doing open reservations this time because I feel like it. Below are what I have so far, but I probably missed someone, so if I did, let me know.**

 **District One male: Lyon Cartier- 18 (Career)**

 **District One female: TheNextTopWitchofHogwarts**

 **District Two male: Kodiak Alward- 18 (Career)**

 **District Two female: Anna Banana**

 **District Three male: Toshiba Epsilon- 15 (Seeking allies against the Careers)**

 **District Three female: Aceswims**

 **District Four male: Faust Xantina- 18 (Career)**

 **District Four female: Siren Kaecko- 16 (Career)**

 **District Five male: Wit Castiglione- 15 (Allying with Study, maybe more)**

 **District Five female: Study Furudo- 16 (allying with Wit)**

 **District Six male: Jayman**

 **District Six female: Carmelle Wheeler- 15 (Seeking allies)**

 **District Seven male: Loki Saberhagen- 18 (Not allying)**

 **District Seven female: Meredith "Merry" Cypress- 14 (Seeking allies)**

 **District Eight male: Weaver Twill- 16 (open to allies)**

 **District Eight female: Chenille Webber**

 **District Nine male: Primaryfocus**

 **District Nine female: Chastity Burgess- 13 (seeking allies)**

 **District Ten male: Jerrimiah Cottle- 16 (Allying with Chenille and Weaver)**

 **District Ten female: Delaney Rogers-Stone- 17 (Seeking allies)**

 **District Eleven male: Aedrick Laquois- 16 (not seeking allies)**

 **District Eleven female: SilverflowerXRavenpaw**

 **District Twelve male: Sam Wilson- 18**

 **District Twelve female: Shelby Mayd- 13 (Allying with Sam and Meredith)**

* * *

 **Suggested form:**

 **Name, District, Age:**

 **Appearance:**

 **Personality:**

 **Backstory/family:**

 **Token:**

 **Relationship with mentor: You can pick which mentor if there are a lot, and this makes it easier for me to write**

 **What they learned in the Capitol:**

 **Requested Capitol scene: Just if you want one in particular. It saves me from making one up.**

 **Private session and score:**

 **Parade outfit:**

 **Interview outfit:**

 **Interview angle:**

 **Allying or not:**

 **Bloodbath plan:**

 **Biggest strength:**

 **Biggest weakness:**

 **One word that sums them up:**

 **How long you think they'll last:**

 **How they would win:**

 **How they would die: At least you get a booby prize**

 **Character development: If you have anything you want, that makes it easier for me**

 **Anything else you want to add:**

* * *

 **I'm going to warn you all now: this one's going to be weird. I've done some unrealistic stuff, but you're REALLY gonna have to suspend disbelief this time. I've been kicking this around for a while, and I'm taking the plunge.**

* * *

Titian Qin- Head Gamemaker

 _Then I had an idea. An_ awful _idea._ _I had a wonderful, awful idea..._


	2. District Two Reaping

**I'mma level with you, I'm drunk right now. I'm 24 and thought I should finally see what it's like. So if I get up tomorrow and this is incomprehensible gibberish, I'll redo it. Because right now I can barely type.**

* * *

Jaydalin Elliots- District Two female

Nobody told me what to do. I did what I wanted, for no one but me. But I loved my baby sister.

Mercura shouldn't even be sick. They had vaccines for things like this. My little sister had the measles. No one even gets measles anymore. Why would anyone get measles when we've had a vaccine for two hundred years? Because the vaccine wasn't free, that was why. It was free for Capitolites, not that they needed it. They had gene therapy before they were born. It was free for Peacekeepers and the families they weren't allowed to have. For the only ones that actually needed it- the District families, the ones living in poverty- it was unreachable. So we died useless, unnecessary deaths.

You needed an appointment to see the Headmaster of the Academy in District Two. I didn't give a rat's ass. I threw the door open and stormed inside.

"You're going to pick me next year," I said to the tan, leanly muscular man behind the desk.

"Miss… Elliots?" the man asked, glancing at the wallet-sized portraits tacked to a billboard on the wall. "I don't remember an appointment with you…?"

"Because I don't have one. I'm just here to tell you to pick me," I said.

"There are many deserving students who want to enter the Arena. You're not unique," the man said, maintaining his composure.

"I don't care about them. I'm the one you're going to send," I said.

"And what makes you so special?" the man asked, glancing at his watch. Two burly security guards entered the room, but he made no move to signal them.

"I…" I hadn't really thought that far. "I'm strong and smart. I'll win."

"Every candidate thinks the same about themselves," the man said.

"But I'm actually right," I said.

"Miss Elliot." The man fiddled with his glasses and rumpled some papers I knew had nothing to do with us. "Your enthusiasm is noted. I see from your performance evaluations that you're doing very well. It's very possible you _will_ be chosen. But the decision lies with the school board. If you'll take my advice, you'll focus on training until you're eighteen. That's two more years of preparation. More training is never a bad thing. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm very busy." He looked pointedly at the door, daring me to make a scene.

I scowled for a moment, then left. I didn't need anyone making me look weak by escorting me out. I'd said my piece, and I knew when enough was enough. I didn't need his approval. The only way to get into the Arena was to earn it. I wanted to be my little sister's savior. To do that, I had to be better than anyone else. No one was going to do it except me.

* * *

Kodiak Alward- District Two male

My sister Jess advanced on the skinny Seam boy huddled on the edge of the cliff. His gray eyes went wide as she drew back her arm and threw the axe. He ducked at the last moment, and it went hurtling off the cliff. It was no matter- she could still choke the life from his barehanded. She stepped toward him, and the slightest breeze hit her face. She didn't see the forcefield that bounced the axe back in the air, curving it like a boomerang. She didn't see her own axe hurtling toward her until it buried itself between her eyes. She sank to her knees, then fell facedown, the axe propping her limp head off the ground.

I jolted awake in bed, tears on my cheeks and sweat covering my body. It wasn't often I had the nightmares, but each was like the first time. Being a Career wasn't as hard as being related to one, and that was something people who weren't in the business would never know. When you die, your pain is all done. When someone you love dies, all their pain transfers to you.

Sometimes I wished I was born in a different District. I knew the Games were good and brought prestige and riches to Two, but I felt like an imposter. I loved other people, and I hated seeing people in pain. I felt connected to everyone I ever met, and when they were hurt, _I_ was hurt. It seemed like a mistake that I was born in Two. But then, it was just right for Jess, and it was worth it if I could have her as my sister.

I wondered often if other Careers felt the way I did before they volunteered. I'd asked Jess the week before her Reaping. She said she just felt excited, almost like she was drunk. She expressed it outwardly, cracking jokes and talking to everyone before she left. I felt locked up inside myself. I kept running through scenarios in my head, psyching myself up and preparing myself for anything that might happen. It kept me up at night thinking of all the ways I could die, and it put butterflies in my stomach thinking of all the ways I could win.

It was the day of the Reaping, and I was glad I'd gone to bed early the night before. I wasn't going into the Arena yet, but I was still glad for the energy. I wanted to look alert and ready when I stood on the stage. Sponsors were as important as weapons. I would be up against five other Careers as trained and ready as I was. Sponsors could make all the difference.

I tried to put my sister out of my mind as I got out of bed. My heart was still racing, and my chest still throbbed like it did whenever something reminded me of her. Whether it was the scent of brown sugar like her perfume, or the sight of someone with a brown pixie cut, any reminder of her could sent my pulse through the roof and give me a panic attack.

Many Careers spent a lot of time planning and preparing their Reaping outfits. It was our first impression on Panem, and it could mean a lot. I knew the seriousness, and I chose appropriately. I picked out a black shirt and black dress pants. I had a code I used for myself. Different colors for different mindsets, and black meant focus. That was what would win it for me. A gun could be powerful and deadly, but it didn't mean anything if it didn't hit the target. Focus was everything. Focus separated the enthusiastic Career from the successful one. Last year, if Valerian had been more focused and less enthusiastic, we would have won.

I'd waited a long time for this moment. Jess was selected when she was sixteen. I'd wondered if they might do the same with me. I would have declined. Every second of training was invaluable. I wasn't selected at sixteen or seventeen, and that was the right decision. I'd learned so much in those two years. I'd grown from a by-the-rules student to an assured, independent fighter. I knew what the Games could do to a formidable Career, and I wouldn't underestimate them. Whether or not I really wanted to kill anyone, I wasn't going to put anyone's life before my own. Even if I didn't want to kill, I was ready to stay alive.

* * *

 **Jaydalin:** **Long, Chesnut brown hair down to her shoulders she usually does in a bun. She has blue-grey eyes, a few freckles here and there, and an althetic build. She is also taller than most girls her age due to her whole family being tall.**

 **Kodiak:** **Light brown hair that's short and tangled, pale and freckled skin, hints of acne around the hairline and a fairly large and muscled frame. Has a light blue eye and a light green eye, around five feet and nine inches.**

 **PS I don't write normal Reaping scenes because they get really repetitive and there's only so much to write when you've done like 300 of them.**

 **PS I did Two next because I try to do them in order, not that it matters**


	3. District Three Reaping

Toshiba Boltwire- District Three male

Mr. Nguyen traced out some final numbers onto the computer board. "So the answer is…" he prodded. He turned around and saw two raised hands, mine included. His eyes skimmed over me and picked out the boy in the back.

"Niels?" he asked.

"E+ 1/x," Niels said.

"No, I'm afraid not," Mr. Nguyen said. "Anyone else?" he waited to see if anyone else would raise their hand. It wasn't that he didn't like me. In fact, he very much _did_ like me- I was his star pupil. He just didn't like calling on the same person every time, which was annoying. I shouldn't be punished for being smart.

"Toshiba?" he asked when no one else volunteered.

"E+ sin x," I said.

"Correct. With this equation, we can easily plot the derivative," Mr. Nguyen said, and he started graphing a parabola.

" _Suck-up,"_ the boy next to me whispered. I sneered with one side of my mouth and kept the other side attentive. I'd dealt with bullies all my life. I hardly even cared anymore. They didn't like someone productive and studious making them look bad. Crabs in a barrel, all of them. I didn't want their approval. I looked to adults for approval. Adults knew what they were doing and didn't have petty fights.

When we received our report cards later that day, I didn't even bother looking. I knew I'd done well. I didn't have to be arrogant, just honest. I wasn't particularly special in the scope of all of Three, I knew, but my class was less that excellent by our standards. It amused some people that Three still used paper report cards, but there was a very sensible reason. The District of computers and technology had the children that were the best at hacking.

When Bubbles reached her hand into the bowl, I was almost excited. It was wickedly fun to see who was going to end up screaming and crying as they got dragged to the stage.

"Toshiba Boltwire!"

 _What? It can't be me._

I didn't deserve this. I was a good kid. I followed the rules and did what I was supposed to. All my teachers and all the adults I knew loved me.

 _It's all their fault._ I wasn't the one who rebelled and got us smashed up. If the rebels hadn't made this mess, I wouldn't have gotten Reaped. If there weren't still people in Panem stirring up trouble, the Games would have already been called off. I did everything right, and I was getting punished again for everyone else's mistakes.

* * *

Iosefka Qrow- District Three female

Argon sat next to me, squinting at the textbook intently, his brows furrowed with confusion.

"It's not as bad as it sounds. It just has really complicated names," I said. I got out a sheet of paper.

"Protein synthesis takes place in three parts. There's replication, transcription, and translation. Replication is a separate process, so ignore that." I'd been writing down the steps as I said them, and I crossed off _replication._

"'Transcription' just means writing. It's your cell writing down the protein it needs to make. The mRNA records that recipe and passes it to the ribosome, where protein is made. Then the tRNA turns that message into a protein," I said.

"So… how do you tell the RNAs apart?" Argon asked. He wasn't dumb, not by a long shot. He was just a nontraditional student, which was especially rare in Three. He'd dropped out to get a job and earn money when his mother developed cancer, and he was just now finishing his education. Education had changed a lot in the twenty years he was gone. He wasn't dumb, he just hadn't been taught right.

"It's like…" I thought a minute and came up with a metaphor. "It's like making a cake. The ribosome says 'hey, we need a cake'. The mRNA are the recipe for the cake. mRNA is messenger RNA. They take the _message_ of the cake recipe to the tRNA. The tRNA is like the chef. They read the recipe and _translate_ the recipe into a cake. The cake is the protein."

I could see Argon's face lighting up as I drew out the process. "A cake? I like that! Wow, it's so easy when you break it down like that."

"Most of this stuff isn't that hard. It just uses terminology we aren't used to," I said. We'd gone through the same thing when I explained that active sites were basically power sockets you could plug different things into, and the different things were the enzymes.

It helped me to help Argon, too. I had to understand something really well in order to make a metaphor like that. I got a friend and I got to help him, and I had nothing to lose. Argon thought I was the nicest person ever, but I probably wouldn't have helped if he was closer to me in skill. I liked helping, but I didn't want anyone getting near my position in the class standings. There wasn't danger of that with Argon. And he was just a good guy. He'd be a great doctor.

* * *

 **Fun fact: That's a real conversation I had with my boxer friend in college. I don't remember all the terms for sure, but that basically IS how DNA synthesis works.**

 **Toshiba: 5'7" and skinny, Asian black hair and brown eyes**

 **Iosefka: Also 5'7", dirty blonde hair, pale blue eyes, skinny**


	4. District Four Reaping

**WOW I goofed. I keep all submitted forms in case someone drops out, and I saw a Four male form and assumed it was the assigned one. I accidentally bumped the submitter who reserved the slot. I knew I was messed up somewhere because there was a submitter with two Tributes who weren't a special case, so I'd been messaging that submitter trying to figure it out. Since that submitter's other Tribute is still safely in her slot, I'll be rewriting this chapter once I get the right form. So enjoy Faust while he's here, because he's about to get unperson-ed. Sorry about that.**

* * *

Faust Xantina- District Four male

When you're rich, it seems like everything revolves around you. Everyone around you is for your amusement, from your entourage to your hired help. Even your children are more decorations than objects of affection. That was why I spent more time with my butler than my father.

"Both ends," Balthasar reminded me. I switched from favoring the sharpened weight at the end of the kusarigama and looped the chain at his legs. He sidestepped and got a bruise instead of getting tangled and falling.

"Very good. In a real fight where I hadn't literally just told you to do that, it would have worked," Balthasar said as we paused to discuss the fight.

It would have sounded silly to most people in my circle, but praise from Balthasar meant so much more than anything my parents said. They only ever commented when I was dressed up and "presentable", and they'd had everything handed to them. Balthasar earned everything he got, and he only cared about things I earned. The Academy made the wrong choice not to pick him all those years ago, and I hoped I could give him the vicarious victory he deserved.

"Faust! Are you in here?" my little sister Jewel called. She entered the room, our littler brother Dimas in tow.

"Hey, what's up?" I asked, trying to look nonchalant as I hung up my weapon. Balthasar started sweeping up the mat floor.

"You're not really volunteering, are you?" Jewel asked.

"I was thinking about it," I said.

"You shouldn't," Jewel said.

"Why not?" I asked.

"You're only doing it because Balthasar said to," Dimas burst in.

"What? Am not!" I said.

"I'm sure Master Faust has the character to make his own decisions," Balthasar commented.

"I think Mother was looking for you," Jewel hinted.

"Of course," Balthasar said, and he politely left.

"You can't live your life for to make a washed-up old man happy," Jewel said when he was gone.

"He's not washed up. And I'm doing this because I want to," I said. _Because I want to make him happy. But also for myself._

"Because you're super good at living for yourself and not going along with what other people want," Dimas said.

"Oh, shut up," I said, but I was just joking. "Hey, guess what Balthasar taught me about shurikens."

"You're getting distracted again," Jewel said, and she was right. It wasn't my fault weapons were a lot more interesting than boring discussions.

* * *

Siren Kaecko- District Four female

"Baaaaaaby _shark_ do do do doo doo do do…"

I was homeschooled all my life, and I still knew that kids' tune. It seemed like every kid heard it right around third grade, and it was a sacred kid duty to pass it along. It must have been ancient by now. And it always seemed hilariously appropriate when I was spearfishing for sharks.

Salt pricked at my eyes as I swam stomach-down on the surface of the water, submerging my face to look for prey. I pulled myself along sharp coral clumps to peer into the cracks and crevices, careful to avoid sea urchins or anemones. The skin on my back was warm and starting to feel dry from the baking salt, so I slid underneath the water and enjoyed the way it flowed smoothly over my limbs as I swam.

Some Academy students spent all their lives in the gym, fighting and training and learning how to kill. I preferred a more natural approach, balancing formal training with informal education. Hunting for sharks honed every skill a Career needed, even the ones we didn't want to admit. It was hard for a Career to accept that they weren't always the strongest or deadliest, and that sometimes it was better to walk away.

A two-foot lemon shark swam lazily in front of me, maybe ten feet down into the reef. It seemed not to think I was worth noticing, since it made no move to either attack or run away. I slowly swam closer, ready to react if it suddenly rushed me. It was nothing to be afraid of, but I knew from experience that an open wound in salt water was no joyride. The shark turned slowly and nosed at a crack in the coral, probably smelling at some little fish. I swam behind it, right over it so I could strike downward with more momentum. I made my move, bringing my trident down while the shark was still distracted with its potential lunch. My trident stuck deep into the shark, pinning it securely as I adjusted my grip to hold tight. Even a small shark was fearsomely strong, and my quarry was doing its best to wiggle off the hook or loosen my grasp.

I pushed off the coral, shooting upward and breaking the surface. I grabbed the shark behind the head, carefully sliding my hands down over its sharp scales. I bashed its head against the surface, stunning it. I took out the trident and stabbed it in the head so it wouldn't slowly drown while I swam back. Blood wafted out around me in abstract shapes, and headed back towards shore.

I looked over my shoulder, at the pretty trail I was leaving and the sun behind the coral. Then a familiar wedge-shaped fin, skinny and maybe a foot tall, broke the surface.

 _Crap mama shark!_

* * *

 **I saw Siren's form said she sang sea songs and went there. Usually she sings prettier ones. It's sort of cool, since Careen also likes sea songs.**

 **Siren: Typical Four look, six feet tall**

 **Faust: Mostly typical Four but paler and lighter blonde hair**

 **Study: Half-Korean half-white, light brown pixie cut, hazel eyes**

 **Wit: Egyptian-looking, golden hair, sludgy green eyes, effeminate, 5'3"**

 **Fun fact: It was a mako shark in the water with Siren. Long-finned mako sharks have... long fins, making them easy to recognize**


	5. District Five Reaping

**I have other full Districts, but I felt like doing this one first. I also did it in two parts since it worked better.**

* * *

Study Furudo- District Five female

I was so stupid to get cornered by a dog. It was a dumb animal and it outsmarted me. I should have run into a store, not into an alley. Who does that?

There I was, crouching precariously on top of a garbage can, when the boy showed up. He was short but still handsome, with golden hair. I knew he was that Peacekeeper's kid or whatever Not his legitimate kid, of course, but we all knew why someone like that would "adopt" a kid.

"Hey! Leave her alone!" the boy said, making a shooing motion at the dog. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"I'm fine, just get him away!" I yelled. There I was, being ungrateful. The boy was nice enough to help and I was letting him do all the heavy lifting.

The dog turned on the boy and snarled. He took a few steps forward, and the boy looked around nervously.

"Hit him with the stick, dummy!" I yelled, pointing at a broken chair leg sticking from a garbage can. Of course that would be my suggestion. I could have said to see if it would fetch, but I jumped straight to violence. I was a child of violence, and I guess I was repeating the cycle.

The boy swung the stick, hitting the dog in the face. It half growled and half yelped, then sprang forward and bit the boy's hand. He screeched, and the noise scared the dog off.

"Oh, wow," I said, looking at the boy's hand. He let me turn it over and check the wound. "It's not so bad. Let's just wash it off and tell a doctor."

"Okay," the boy said. "Do you know where the hospital is?"

"Don't worry, I'll show you," I said. Right away the boy relaxed. "I'm Study."

"I'm Wit," the boy said.

"Really? Your name's Wit?" I asked.

"Yeah, I know, it's weird," he said.

 _Great, now he feels bad._ "No, I just meant that my name's Study. The first two ravens were named Wit and Study," I said.

"No way! What are the odds?" WIt asked. "Is that like a legend or something?"

 _I'm glad you asked._ I loved telling stories, and I especially loved teaching other people. Wit was nice enough to chase the dog away, _and_ he seemed fascinated by me and my stories. I took the lead, walking in front of the bot as I started the story. He followed, and I loved it.

* * *

Wit Castiglione- District Five male

A clattering garbage can was nothing to worry about, but a snarling dog was. Maybe it had a kitten or a raccoon stuck. This was a job for a hero!

It wasn't a kitten. It was a girl. She was crouched on the garbage can as the dog tried to knock it over.

 _That's a really big dog._ Maybe this wasn't a job for a hero, or at least not for me. I was backing away nervously when the girl yelled at me.

"Hit it with a stick, dummy!" she commanded. Right there, she made a relationship between us. I'd never had many friends, and I dearly wanted one. If I could impress this girl, maybe she'd let me be her friend. And she knew what she was doing, which was good, because I didn't. If I stayed with her, she could show me the way.

I clenched my eyes as I swung the stick wildly at the dog. It yelped, then jumped forward and bit me. It hurt way more than I expected, especially since it wasn't that big a bite. I was lucky the noise scared the dog off.

The girl examined my hand, and I felt better right away. She knew what she was doing, and I could let her take care of it.

"I'm Wit," I said after she introduced herself.

"Really? Your name's Wit?" she asked.

 _I ruined it._ She wouldn't want to be friends with someone with a stupid name like Wit. I should have made something up.

"My name's Study. The first two ravens were named Wit and Study," she said.

 _No way? Really?_ She still wanted to be friends? "Is that like a story or something?" I asked.

Study took the lead as she started the story, and I eagerly followed. I'd found someone who would tell me how things worked, and all I had to do was fight a dog.

* * *

Study Furudo- District Five female

"Study Furudo!"

Of course it was me. I was the unluckiest person in the world, and even if I wasn't, I sort of deserved it. I was mean to my only friend Wit. I was always yelling at him and bossing him around. Sure I knew better and I was usually right, but I still wasn't a very good friend sometimes. Then there was my home situation. Obviously my mother treated me like she did because I deserved it. The only way to keep a temper like mine in check was to beat it out of me. Inside and out I was a mess, from my birth defects to my personality. I was the reason I didn't have any friends.

"And now for the boys!" the brightly-dressed escort crooned. "Lumiere Joule!"

Some kid I didn't know but had probably bullied me at some point stood next to me.

"Do we have any volunteers?"

"I volunteer as Tribute!"

 _Oh no._ I should have known.

"You idiot!" I screamed when Wit came onstage. "I knew you were dumb, but this is a new low."

"I thought I could help," Wit said. "Like with the dog…"

"Help? You got yourself bit!" Even as I yelled, I knew what I sounded like. I was yelling at Wit because I was angry, not because he did anything wrong. I sounded just like my mother when she gambled away our tesserae, then came home and screamed at me for not stopping her. "You're supposed to be my Watson. Well I guess you are, since he was _stupid,"_ I said, as the escort called for applause.

Wit looked like he was going to cry. Well, let him. We were about to go into the Hunger Games. I felt about ready to cry too.

* * *

Wit Castiglione- District Five male

"Study Furudo!"

 _Oh no. Not her._

Not my best friend. I couldn't live without Study. She showed me when I was being stupid and taught me about being a detective and told me how to do everything. I wouldn't know what to do without her.

 _This is my chance._ I could fix my problems and do what was right all at once. I could finally make something of myself and be the man I was supposed to be. Just like before, this called for a hero.

"Do we have any volunteers?"

"I volunteer as Tribute!"

Everything was going to be all right. Study was a genius. She already had a plan, I was sure. I'd just go up on stage and she'd tell me-

"You idiot! I knew you were dumb, but this is a new low," Study screamed.

 _What? But we're together now!_ "I thought I could help. Like with the dog…" I started.

"Help? You got yourself bit!"

 _I ruined everything._ I shouldn't have volunteered. Study was better off without me. I just got in the way. This was why I always listened to her. I was so stupid.

"I guess you are. Since he's _stupid,"_ Study said.

I shouldn't have tried to be a hero. I wasn't brave or smart. I was scared and I'd ruined everything for my best friend. I had to make it up to her. From now on, I'd always listen to her.


	6. District Four again LOL

**Okay here's the updated version.**

* * *

Havelock Grimm- District Four male

One of my earliest memories was a burning boat. Sometimes at night I remembered the orange flames on the surface of the dark water, getting smaller and smaller as the boat drifted away. It wasn't until much later that I put it together in my head. I'd known what was happening at the time, but it hadn't meant anything to my young mind. I grew up knowing my brother was dead, but I didn't realize until I was almost a teenager that the memory was his funeral pyre.

I smiled as I sat by the water, looking out at the spot from my memories. I felt guilty sometimes that when I saw Floki die again and realized what the boat was, I felt let down. It had been such a mysterious, exciting memory, and I was sad it turned out so morbid. This was the last night I was going to see it for a long time, because it was the night before I was started down his same path.

I always did leave everything to the last moment. So many people fussed over everything. I liked to play things by ear and enjoy the day. I kept thinking that I was just training because people expected me to, and that I'd never actually get picked. There were so many students clamoring for a chance at the Arena and training every minute to make their dreams come true. I never dreamed the mayor would interfere, and his reason was even more bizarre. It would have been laughable if it wasn't my future.

Four hasn't had a Victor in years. One and Two are pulling away from us. We were gaining a reputation as the second-rate Career District, a sort of hybrid between Career and non-Career. Instead of celebrating that people weren't throwing their lives away like my brother and embracing our unique culture, the mayor set out to duplicate their methods. He recognized that sponsors and Capitol approval are as important as skills, and he selected me for both of those. I was trained and knew how to fight, but the real reason I was chosen would have made the Vikings my parents always talked about blush with shame. The Victors from one are always striking, foxlike warriors. Like them, I was chosen because I was pretty. Wouldn't my ancestors be proud.

I didn't want to fight. I knew how- I was strong and tall, like my brother, and I learned all the same skills- but I didn't want to. I believed in the gods and all, but all the bloodshed and psychotic rage wasn't for me. When I thought about my future, I envisioned my family, a fishing boat, and a rosy-cheeked wife holding a squirming little boy. The mayor should have let one of the real warriors live out their dream. Then I could have lived mine.

* * *

Siren Kaecko- District Four female

"Baaaaaaby _shark_ do do do doo doo do do…"

I was homeschooled all my life, and I still knew that kids' tune. It seemed like every kid heard it right around third grade, and it was a sacred kid duty to pass it along. It must have been ancient by now. And it always seemed hilariously appropriate when I was spearfishing for sharks.

Salt pricked at my eyes as I swam stomach-down on the surface of the water, submerging my face to look for prey. I pulled myself along sharp coral clumps to peer into the cracks and crevices, careful to avoid sea urchins or anemones. The skin on my back was warm and starting to feel dry from the baking salt, so I slid underneath the water and enjoyed the way it flowed smoothly over my limbs as I swam.

Some Academy students spent all their lives in the gym, fighting and training and learning how to kill. I preferred a more natural approach, balancing formal training with informal education. Hunting for sharks honed every skill a Career needed, even the ones we didn't want to admit. It was hard for a Career to accept that they weren't always the strongest or deadliest, and that sometimes it was better to walk away.

A two-foot lemon shark swam lazily in front of me, maybe ten feet down into the reef. It seemed not to think I was worth noticing, since it made no move to either attack or run away. I slowly swam closer, ready to react if it suddenly rushed me. It was nothing to be afraid of, but I knew from experience that an open wound in salt water was no joyride. The shark turned slowly and nosed at a crack in the coral, probably smelling at some little fish. I swam behind it, right over it so I could strike downward with more momentum. I made my move, bringing my trident down while the shark was still distracted with its potential lunch. My trident stuck deep into the shark, pinning it securely as I adjusted my grip to hold tight. Even a small shark was fearsomely strong, and my quarry was doing its best to wiggle off the hook or loosen my grasp.

I pushed off the coral, shooting upward and breaking the surface. I grabbed the shark behind the head, carefully sliding my hands down over its sharp scales. I bashed its head against the surface, stunning it. I took out the trident and stabbed it in the head so it wouldn't slowly drown while I swam back. Blood wafted out around me in abstract shapes, and headed back towards shore.

I looked over my shoulder, at the pretty trail I was leaving and the sun behind the coral. Then a familiar wedge-shaped fin, skinny and maybe a foot tall, broke the surface.

 _Crap mama shark!_

* * *

 **I saw Siren's form said she sang sea songs and went there. Usually she sings prettier ones. It's sort of cool, since Careen also likes sea songs.**

 **Siren: Typical Four look, six feet tall**

 **Havelock: Taller and thinner than Floki, but still muscular. He's really, really beautiful. He's what Zoolander was talking about. He's the ideal Teutonic form, naturally, except his eyes are green and not blue. Based on the description, not gonna lie, he sounds like handsome Squidward if he had Squidward's flowing hair from that episode about the other fry cook.**

 **Fun fact: It was a mako shark in the water with Siren. Long-finned mako sharks have... long fins, making them easy to recognize**


	7. District Seven Reaping

Meredith "Merry" Cypress- District Seven female

The forest was lovely. The tall pine trees left needles on the ground and made the air smell like winter and greenness. They blocked out the sky, casting long shadows on the ground and leaving slivers of warm light like tiger stripes. There was no sound of civilization- only my feet on the ground and a few rustling birds.

I usually didn't use pine wood for baskets. It was nice and bendy, but lots of times the twigs had sap, and I hated sticky sap on my hands. Once I was far out in the woods, there was nothing to do but bear it for the half-hour it took to get back home to the sink. So I picked through the woods to the few deciduous trees in the area and used them instead, breaking off a few young branches from each tree so none of them would be really damaged.

When I had a handful, I sat down and started weaving. Basket-making was peaceful and fun, like knitting. The only really hard part was getting the first loop. Once it was stabilized, I could just twist more branches around it and tuck them into each other. It was easy enough that I could talk to someone else if I wanted. Usually I was with one or another of my friends, but this time I was by myself.

My friends were all practicing for our next concert. It was just a little show, like all the others we'd ever done. We gathered in a clearing and our parents or whoever else from around town came and listened and sometimes we had a potluck or played baseball. Even with our old, beat-up instruments from school, we sounded nice.

A piece of wood stuck up underneath me, and I shifted so it stopped poking me. I wrapped another twig into place and wondered if I should add flowers to this one. Then I got to wondering what the basket would be used for. I usually gave them away. I already had so many baskets at home, and I liked giving things to people. Maybe I could use this one to hold bread at our next food drive. Then someone would get bread _and_ a pretty basket.

 _Or maybe they'll use it to hold kittens._ There was no situation where a designated kitten-holding basket was needed, but kittens would look very cute in the basket. Or bunnies. But more likely it would be bread, or something gathered from the forest, like acorns or mushrooms. _Yuck, mushrooms._ I hoped it wasn't mushrooms.

There was plenty of time before the others were expecting me at practice, so I was able to finish the basket. I made a tall handle and bent it across, weaving it into place. On my way home, I looked around for anything useful, like pine nuts or _not_ mushrooms. I swung the basket to and fro as I ran. It was shaping up to be a good day. So far, it had been a good life.

* * *

Loki Saberhagen- District Seven male

There was trouble in the woods. I heard it from a ways off and held back, trying to scope it out. I knew it wasn't my fault. I didn't attract attention or make trouble. I was much better at getting out of it than into it. Still, it was better not to rush in.

"You can't do this! It's not possible!" Spruce the overseer was saying.

"Take it up with the Capitol," the Peacekeeper said back. His helmet was off to keep him cool, so I could see his face. He looked… boringly human.

"What's going on?" I asked Sven, who was clustering with the other workers.

"New law. Foraging isn't allowed," he said.

 _What? What kind of idiot…_ half the food in Seven came from foraging. We lived in a _forest._ We were going to use the trees.

"I'll take care of this," I said. I made my way towards Spruce. When he saw me coming, he gave me a half-smile, which he tried to hide from the Peacekeeper. The Peacekeeper turned toward me as Spruce took a step to the side.

"Excuse me, Sir?" I said politely.

"And who are you?" he asked.

"I'm sort of a… representative. I'd like to see if we can negotiate," I said. I started as a woodcutter like everyone else, but I quickly finagled my way into a newly invented position as a go-between, quelling worker discontent and keeping the peace between the workers and the overseers. I offered my hand, then meekly took it back when the gesture wasn't returned.

"Sorry. Can't argue with the Capitol," the Peacekeeper said.

"Of course. We wouldn't dare," I said. "But I think we can help _you_ out." The Peacekeeper raised an eyebrow and didn't stop me.

"We're not saying the law should be changed. However, it might be beneficial to everyone if it isn't enforced," I said.

"You want me to ignore my duty?" the Peacekeeper asked.

"We just want to look at the bigger picture. A Peacekeeper's job is to keep peace. If this new law is enforced, it won't stop the foragers. The only change will be discontent and a huge increase of arrests. That means more paperwork and Capitolites breathing down your neck, trying to see why you're arresting so many people and ignoring the fact that it was the law _they_ made. You're already overworked enough.

"Isn't _that_ the truth," the Peacekeeper said.

"And also, you know how persistent the wolves can be around here. A human presence in the woods keeps them back. If they aren't kept timid, they'll move closer. Then there will be attacks, and then you'll be called in to keep the peace," I said.

The Peacekeeper was already on board, but he pretended to be dutiful. "You know if you get arrested, there's nothing I can do?" he asked.

"It's not your fault we disobeyed the law," I said.

The Peacekeeper looked at his watch. "I'm a very busy man. Don't make me come back," he said. He wouldn't be back, not unless we did someone did something stupid.

"Good show," Spruce said, slapping me on the back after the Peacekeeper was gone. "You could sell wood to a nymph." Show me a nymph, and I'd try.

* * *

 **Yeah I literally got Loki but I don't give a crap so I added him. He's actually not an exact copy in his form, so I'll try to show that.**

 **Merry: Mackenzie Foy**

 **Loki: Tall, black hair, green eyes**


	8. District Eight Reaping

Weaver Twill- District Eight male

I lost my mother when I was twelve years old, and I was glad. It was the hardest thing I ever did in my life to hold my eight-year-old brother back as he screamed and tried to cling to her as the Peacekeepers took her away. I gripped him with strength I didn't know I had, and I wished I'd used that strength before. I could have held her arm when she hit him, or shut the door in her face when she came to our room to tell us how worthless we were.

She was in prison, and we were in a state home. The food was light and the blankets were thin, but it was all worth it. We were away from her, and my brother was safe. The caretakers here were human. Some were cold, some were neutral, and some genuinely cared. All it took was one. We only needed one person to treat us with kindness to start healing. For every worker just in it for the paycheck, there was one that genuinely loved us. We had a new family, made up of sewn-together pieces like a mismatched but whole quilt.

The brightest spot of the Reaping was seeing Rhodius Tuck and the crazy outfits he wore. It made me weirdly proud to think the technicolor, impossibly garish concoctions came from a factory right here in Eight. Maybe I couldn't do anything that artistic, but it made me proud to be from Eight.

"AaaaAAAAaAre yooooooooooooooooooooooooou… READY?!" Rhodius asked, his shrill voice oscillating as he moved the microphone closer to and farther from his mouth.

No one answered.

Rhodius made an annoyed buzzing noise. "Zzzz! This is the one, the only moment we've all been waiting for." His voice dipped low. "The Reeeeeaping."

He shoved his hand into the glass bowl so quickly he smacked his fingers into the bottom. He fished out a slip, acting like he'd meant to do that.

There were so many children in the home on the cusp of adulthood. It seemed so unfair that one of them would go to the Games. We'd already been through so much.

"Thatcher Twill!"

My little twelve-year-old brother didn't say a word. He talked so rarely. There were so many feelings bottled up in him, and there weren't words to say what he'd been through. He looked so tiny climbing to the stage, shrinking away from the Peacekeeper offering a hand.

It wasn't fear or resolve that stole over me as I watched. There was no bravery or flaming resolve. It was only serenity.

"I volunteer as Tribute!" I stated when Rhodius called. He flipped out and started some histrionic speech, but I only had eyes for Thatcher. My brother hadn't said a word when he was Reaped, but how he wailed when I took his place. It was a Peacekeeper holding him back this time, and he had my heartfelt thanks for how gentle he was being.

"It's okay," I said calmly, and I smiled at him. This wasn't a storybook, where I'd bravely win the Games and make a new life for both of us. I wasn't going to defy the odds and pull out an underdog victory. I wasn't taking a chance and laying it all on the line for an incredible payoff. I loved my brother, and I was saving his life by giving him mine.

* * *

Chenille Webber- District Eight female

I loved it when we ate my tesserae for breakfast. Each one of those slips scared me to death thinking about being closer to the Arena, but seeing my family full and not hungry made it all worth it. My parents didn't like me taking tesserae, but that was the one right children had in Panem. They hated seeing me wheel the grain home, but when it was time to eat, we pretended we'd bought it with money like a normal family.

My mother served me up another bowl of tesserae oatmeal, heaped with brown sugar and raisins. We didn't get to eat those every day. They were only for special occasions, like the day that might be our last tesserae. I noticed my brother Argyle's bowl was similarly topped, while Velvet's was almost barren. My mother loved us all the same, but it was me and Argyle who were in the hot seats. Velvet was nineteen.

"We won't get Reaped," Argyle said, like he could make it true. My mother started to say something about not talking about such things, but instead she rose quickly and left the room, her face scrunching up. My father followed, and I heard them talking behind the thin door.

"I'd volunteer if you did," I gallantly said.

"You can't volunteer for a boy, dummy," Argyle teased.

"I'd draw a beard on my face and put a potato in my pants," I said. Argyle guffawed at the suddenly crass image from his sweet little sister, and Velvet looked up in horror a the thought that I knew about boys and their potato pants. Which I didn't, not really. I just knew they had lumpy pants.

"It won't be us. It will be some fat kid," Argyle said.

"What makes you think that?" Velvet asked.

"Because he'll have more tesserae," Argyle said. For no reason, I cracked up, almost dropping my spoon. I imagined an immensely fat boy so huge he needed to be lifted onto the stage with a crane.

Velvet rolled her eyes. "Very mature," she said

"Here, have some sugar and raisins," I said, scooping some off my tesserae and onto Velvet's.

"No, it's for you," she said.

"I don't even like them," I said.

"Fibber," she said.

"It tastes better when I share it," I said.

" _That_ one's true," she said, and she let me share a spoonful of sweet raisins.

I waited until we were done to say what had to come next. "Argyle?" I asked.

"What?" he said.

"If I get Reaped, tell Mom and Dad I wasn't scared," I said. I wouldn't be lying that time. Argyle would be.

* * *

 **Weaver: a thin boy of medium height. He has medium-length brown hair and dark brown eyes. He doesn't smile much because his teeth are crooked and he's self-conscious about it.**

 **Chenille: C** **henille has pale skin, blue eyes, and blonde hair that she wears in a ponytail. She's skinny and undernourished.**


	9. Author's note

**I seem to have suffered a little mishap. My google docs account was based from my schoolhouse for job training. Since I'm not a student there, they just deleted it. I made a new account, but all my fanfiction records are gone. I can find everything I need again, since I'm just missing is the forms. It's going to be a pain to find them all again in all the PMs, though. For everyone who sent a Tribute in, if the form isn't the last message on the chain, can you paste them in again so they all show up easily? In a few days we'll be right as rain again.**

* * *

Titian Qin

 _We got some weird characters this year. Personally, I like the girl from Two. She's gonna kill a lot of people. I hate it when they volunteer and don't even kill people. "Oh look at me I'm a volunteer but I have a_ heart _and don't_ kill people _even thought that's my_ literal job! _Don't give me Heros. I want Villains!_


	10. District Ten Reaping

Delaney Rogers-Stone- District Ten female

Ducks are nice. They have pretty feathers, and they're cleverly designed so water rolls right off of them. That's helpful, since they live in water like half their lives. They have attractive stripes around their necks and shiny reflective feathers on their wings. And they're very easy to please. All the want is a piece of bread. Unlike Oliver, who is thirty-two and wants to marry a seventeen-year-old-girl.

"Are you really going to do it?" Annalise asked as I tossed Kevin another piece of bread. He darted over to it like a little torpedo and snatched it from the water, clacking his beak together in appreciation.

"I don't know," I said. "I don't like making a fuss… but he doesn't even like me," I said. "He's a gross old man, of course, and he doesn't even enjoy being with me. He always looks bored."

"Better than being really excited, at least," Annalise said.

"Oh, ick," I said. Seven swam up next to Kevin and nibbled at his feathers. I watched them squabble over soggy bread.

"Maybe he'll get bored and move on," I said. "I'm not really pretty or rich or anything. I think he's just settling."

"Settling? You're way out of his league," Annalise said.

"Well, thanks," I said.

"Solidarity," Annalise said. "And it's true."

I stood up in front of the bench. "I should go home. My mom's been cleaning all day. Something's going down."

"Okay. Bye, Ducky," Annalise said, and I waved over my shoulder.

When I walked inside the house, Mom was setting flowers into a vase on our table.

"Oh, Delaney! I was about to call you. Oliver's coming for dinner," she said.

 _Oh, good. We can have prune juice and bran muffins,_ I thought.

My mother saw my face and frowned at me. "Now, Delaney. This is a very nice match. Oliver has a stable job and his own house. Tomorrow's your final Reaping. After that, there's nothing to do but get married. You'll have a lovely life together."

 _Why don't you keep negotiating? Maybe you can get him to throw in two cows, too,_ I thought. I took a seat at the table and started arranging the flowers so I could pretend I was thinking of something else. Mom bustled off to cook dinner or something, leaving me alone.

How do you even deal with something like this? I wasn't the type to make a fuss. People liked to get all worked up over nothing, and my mother got upset so easily. But this was actually something to get upset about. I was _seventeen._ I wasn't even an adult yet. Oliver didn't want to marry until I was eighteen, since for all his faults, he wasn't a pedophile, but still. _Eighteen._ I wouldn't get to have any adulthood for myself before I was stuck with a guy twice my age for the rest of his life. Even if I liked Oliver, I wouldn't want to marry right when I hit eighteen. I had mistakes to make and boys to flirt with and things to learn.

 _Oh well. I'm not married yet._ There was still time. Maybe things would blow over. Maybe Oliver would find someone he actually liked, or maybe Mom would see this was a stupid idea. I'd keep working on it quietly. If all else failed, I could object at my own wedding. Wouldn't _that_ blow everyone's minds? I hardly ever speak up, but boy, when I do…

* * *

Jerrimiah Cottle- District Ten male

Ten is one of the biggest Districts. We have wide-open plains and golden grass from one side of the horizon to the other. The cattle need so much room to eat and roam that it's not possible to do our work by walking. Some of us use horses, but for some work, the only way is trains. Great, rumbling trains made of solid metal, propelled over the District by some fancy electricity I didn't understand, though we still had a handful that burned coal. They were like giant, unstoppable beasts, barreling over the plains.

The trains were fast, and so was I. I loved watching them pull up beside me, still slowly emerging from their stations, so I could grab a bit of metal or wood and pull myself on. Lots of people did that for a free ride or just for a thrill. I totally would have done it for those reasons, but it was actually my job. I was an animal handler. I fed and watered the cattle, and I checked to make sure they weren't too crowded or injuring each other. Occasionally I also doubled as a conductor's mate, pulling the switch when a train needed to make a turn.

"How they look?" I asked Garrett, who had gotten into the car before me.

"They look all right. No calves this time," he said. Usually the fatter, grown cows were being transported, but sometimes the Capitol demand for veal required younger meat.

"Wow, look at that one. What a stud," I said, pointing out a huge bull with giant horns.

"I didn't know you were into that," Garrett smirked.

"Every single time," I said, rolling my eyes. A _stud,_ of course, was a bull used to sire calves. _Not,_ in this case, a hot guy. Like me, for example.

"Look out," Garrett said as a cow moved its head, almost thwacking into me. People don't realize how big cows are. They might not _mean_ to squish you flat, but you're still flat. Especially on a swaying train where it's easy to lose your balance.

"Hey look, that one looks just like you," I said, pointing at one of the animals. Garrett followed my finger and saw I was pointing out a steer.

"Oh, ha ha. And how exactly would you know?" he asked.

"Your girlfriend," I said.

"Well I hope you liked my sloppy seconds," Garrett said.

The train car lurched, knocking me into the wall. I steadied myself with one hand while I refilled the water trough with the other.

"All right, looks good," I said. Garrett and I squeezed out of the door, cracking it open only a tiny bit so no cows fell out. As cool as that would be to see, I'd feel terrible.

Getting off a train was a lot easier than getting on. We just waited, hanging off the side with the wind in our hair, until the train slowed as it went around a bend. Had it been in the middle of nowhere we would have kept waiting, but town was in view. We hopped off, falling lightly and rolling to disperse our energy.

I sat up, picking grass out of my hair. We watched the train pull away from us.

"Hope they have a good trip," I said.

"Yup," Garrett said. "All the way to the slaughterhouse."

* * *

 **Jerrimiah:** **African American, Medium length black hair, 6'0 tall, dark brown eyes, skinny but toned, decently handsome, small scars on arms, tattoo of D10 logo on side of neck. Usually wears a red bandana**

 **Delaney: Delaney is more charming than she isattractive. She is always wearing a rather uninterested expression even if it doesn't reflect her mood. She has fair skin with caramel brown hair and hazel eyes. She stands at around 5'6.**


	11. Eleven Reaping

Aedrick Laquois- District Eleven male

In the weeks before the Reaping, the screen in the Reaping center played footage of old Games back-to-back. Every year there was a three-week period, longer each year, where that part of the District resounded with screams, then silence, then more screams.

I didn't usually watch. Not many people did. There would be a few parents, coming back every year because the only images they had of their children were those frozen moments on the screen. With them were a handful of "edgy" viewers or the ones who weren't doing it for attention but because they actually did enjoy it. But sometimes, either because I happened by or found some excuse and managed to slip away from the house and my father, I watched. There was only one Games I would deliberately watch, and that was the sixteenth.

I wondered about Lena. In the footage of her Reaping, her arms were mottled and she moved so tenderly. If she'd done it herself, she would have had that sad self-loathing in her eyes. But she directed her fear outward, toward the Peacekeepers and even the escort. Whenever anyone moved, she shrank back like they were going to hit her. That was what I recognized in her. I knew that utter lack of self-confidence, and the knowledge that pain was inevitable, and the lingering instinct to try to avoid it. For me, it hadn't always been that way. That was why I talked a little more, and didn't look quite so scared. I remembered what it was like before things went bad and my father turned bitter. For her, I didn't think there ever were any happy times.

No one expected Lena to win. No one expected anything from her, since they didn't even know she existed. She faded into the background, swallowed up by the dazzling environment and twenty-three more dynamic Tributes. The footage of the parade was just an overview, with only a single closeup of the Tribute no one gave a second glance to. In the shot, Lena was crouched behind the front of the chariot, only her fingers visible. The camera lingered for only a second before moving on to someone else. There was no footage of her training, and during her interview, she barely said a word.

The replay was so short, because there was so little from the Arena. Lena spent almost the entire Games hidden in the mud, not even moving. But then she won. No one loved her, everyone wanted to hurt her, and still she won. When I looked down at the bruises on my arm, sometimes I felt like maybe I might mean something someday, too. But I knew I'd never win the Games. I couldn't do anything right. Not in a million years. Wherever she was now, I hoped she was a lot happier than me.

* * *

Ambrosia Smith- District Eleven female

Some things just didn't make any sense, and those were the things I didn't like. Science made sense, even if it was sometimes hard to understand. You put the chemicals in, you get a boom out. It didn't always come easily, but once I got it, the rules stayed the same. English was one of the weird things. The words weren't so bad, although there was an exception to _every_ grammatical rule. It was the teachers always saying things like, "The author included blue drapes to symbolize his melancholy and feelings of constriction within domestic society". Or maybe he just liked blue.

Talking was one of the hard things. When people talked to each other, they said like three things at once. They actually _said_ one thing out loud. Then their expressions said something else, and their bodies said something different entirely. I never knew which one was the one they actually meant. So many times I'd reacted to the wrong thing and gotten people mad at me. It was so bad that one time, when a Capitol doctor was making some rounds for demographics and stuff like that, he singled me out and ran some tests on me. It turned out I didn't have a disability, since I _liked_ talking and making friends, I just wasn't very _good_ at it. I was just a weird kid.

Tansy, Sanicle and Dillan were clustered in a circle, talking about salacious girl things. If I got right in there, I'd just mess up and look like a dummy, so I stood to the side, listening and trying to make sense of it. I couldn't hear everything they were saying, but I could see their faces and hear their tones. I noticed that they were all talking lower- when they talked to boys, every one of them jumped their voices up way higher. They were all smiling with their mouths open, even when they weren't talking, and they were standing really close to each other. I made a mental note to remember that and add it to the list of things I would try to keep in mind next time I tried to join in.

After school, I took Dog out with me when I went outside for the chores. There were two reasons my dog was named Dog. The first was that I was seven when I named her and I was a dumb kid. The second was that, in a stunning display of logic, I reasoned that she would be the only dog with that name, since I'd never heard of a dog named Dog. Well, I wasn't wrong.

"Hi. What are you up to?" I practiced on Dog, pretending she was a schoolmate.

Dog dug a hole in the dirt between the saplings I was thinning and watering.

"I'm Ambrosia," I said. _I'm… Periwinkle,_ I pretended Dog said.

"Would you like to be friends?" I asked. _No, that's too fast. You have to let it develop. And you don't just ask to be friends. It sort of happens naturally without anyone saying._

"I like digging, too," I said. "You're doing a really good job." _That's better. Find something you both like and be encouraging. People like compliments._

"There's lots of dirt at my house. You should come over and dig sometime," I said. I almost said "you want to come over and dig sometime?", but that was a straight question and pressured for an answer. This was more noncommittal and didn't box my potential friend in.

"I think that went pretty well, hey, Dog?" I asked.

" _Hffft,"_ Dog sneezed.

* * *

 **Aedrick: Aedrick is 5'5" and very skinny. He has olive colored skin and scruffy black hair. He also has dark, chocolate brown eyes and a very sharp nose. He has a large amount of scratches and bruises on his arms.**

 **Ambrosia: Ambrosia is tall and lanky, still in the midst of her growth spurt. She's getting boobs and still getting used to them. She's black, with brown eyes and black, frizzy hair. She has average sized lips and upside-down eyes.**

 **I think that's all the complete Districts I have, so while I wait a few days for a few last forms to roll in, I'll update one-shot stories**


	12. Twelve Reaping

**I have both Tens. I just need a minute to sift through the PMs for their forms.**

* * *

Sam Wilson- District Twelve male

I kept my head tucked into the hood of my thin jacket as I walked past a cluster of Peacekeepers drinking coffee and complaining about how early it was. I'd been working in the mines for ttwo months. No one had to know I didn't turn eighteen for another week. I was a good worker, and my family needed the money. It wasn't fair to keep me away. It didn't stop being dangerous when I turned eighteen. A month didn't go by without a cave-in or carbon monoxide leak. It was just part of life in Twelve.

It didn't stop at the mines, either. The Capitol bragged about how protective it was, not letting kids work there. They patted themselves on the back for all the children they saved from horrible deaths. But it wasn't just the mines that killed us. It was mid-winter. My thin jacket barely cut the breeze, and my hands were red and stiff. I'd already seen things in the cold, things I saw every year. I'd walked down the road to school and passed a little boy lying in a cardboard box, one bare leg dangling out, as pale as the snow around it. We were dying every minute. They just made it last longer.

The mines were warmer than the surface. We were down deep enough that the temperature was constant, and of course there was no wind chill. In the cramped, dark tunnels, our body head warmed the stuffy air. It was like being buried in the entrails of some massive, oblivious beast. Beams of light pierced the shaft from the headlights of other workers, and I held my hand to my own, feeling the heat from the bulb on my cold fingers.

Six hours went by before work paused. A sheen of sweat worked up on my skin, warming me at first but making the chill worse when it cooled. The overseers always said we shouldn't dress in layers for that exact reason. It might have made a difference if any of us owned multiple layers of clothes.

My arms ached and the muscles in my legs jumped and twitched when I sat down for lunch. Some miners argued over which of them got to ride up with the overseers and eat topside, but I liked staying in the mines. They were sturdy and cozy, and they already felt like home. This was my stark, unforgiving home, just like Twelve above the surface. I ate the unbuttered cheese sandwich I'd brought wrapped up in my pocket and chatted with the other workers, trying to wipe the grime off the bread.

Our lunch break was twenty minutes long, but I was up in ten, pickaxe in hand. Idleness didn't sit well with me. Even if life in Panem was unfair and people in Twelve had to work way harder to get half the reward, that wasn't the important part. I couldn't control how other people acted, but I could control how I handled it. It wasn't fair, but I still held myself to fair standards and worked hard for my pay.

"There he goes again," one of the workers said behind me, probably nudging the man next to him. The others didn't resent me, since I didn't try to make them look bad and I wasn't bucking for a range. They just commented on it sometimes, since it was unusual for someone to be so dedicated to the mind-numbing, backbreaking work.

There were practical reasons, too. It was nigh-impossible to work your way into a promotion without connections or at least charisma, but increased output brought increased compensation. I knew I didn't have prospects or relationships, but I had my hands and I had the willingness to work. I was going to make a life for myself in Twelve if I had to carve it out of the ground with my bare hands.

* * *

Shelby Mayd- District Twelve female

My sister Carley has a magic knife. I can't make it work, and neither can anyone else in my family. Only she can. It only works in the bathroom. Sometimes, when she takes it in there, blood comes out of it. I wish she'd tell our parents about it.

My mother is the best mother I know. She works hard all day long, from before I get up to after I go to bed. She works bringing food to the miners, and then she comes home and makes food for us. She's always so tired. Sometimes I wish she'd take a rest and let someone else work hard for _her._ If she had a break, she could spend more time with my father. She loves him so much, and she hates that she can't see him as much anymore. She really misses him.

My father is so loving. He loves spending time with my and my brother and sister. He loves my mom, too. He just has so many friends it's hard for him to find time with her. He's really happy lately, since he made a new friend. Franklin's a really nice guy. He really likes my dad, too. They're always hugging, and one time I saw them hold hands.

Things aren't as nice as I like to see them. I didn't know everything about my family, but I knew they weren't as happy as I was. If I sat around thinking about all that, it would make me sad. Instead I liked to look at reality, but highlight the nice parts. There are so many ways to look at things, who can say what's really truth?

It was the same on Reaping Day. There was no making the Games into something positive, but something positive did come of it. The Games brought the District together. Most of what the Capitol did was designed to tear us apart and pit us against each other. The lack of food, the insufficient career opportunities, and the wealthy disparity between the Districts were all supposed to stop us from realizing our collective strength. But the Games was the constant, undeniable reminder of our real enemy. Everyone from a fishing girl in Four from a milkmaid in Ten trembled at the wrath of the Capitol, and we all bled the same color in the Arena.

That's what I tried to tell myself when they called my name. I tried to say there was a good side, and something good would come of it. But I wasn't fooling anyone, not even myself. I wasn't giving up. Far from it. I was already thinking of ways to use the hand I'd drawn and keep myself afloat, but this wasn't a blessing in disguise. If I won- and I could- it would be in spite of the Capitol, not because they were trying to help me in some unknowable way.

Dad was the first one to make it to the Justice Center and say goodbye. We hugged and said the normal things, and then I said what needed to get said before everyone else arrived.

"Mom's going to be really lonely without me," I said. I wasn't accusing, but it was clear there was more to my words.

Dad was sniffing, and his face was pale, with blotches around his eyes. He couldn't look at me, and he couldn't respond.

"She needs to know you care about her, even if you have other friends too," I said.

He was still trying to talk when everyone else arrived. We didn't say anything more about it as we made our goodbyes, but I knew he was thinking about it.

I'd done everything I needed to do for my family. As soon as they were gone, I started thinking about myself. No one was going to keep me alive but me. I was on my own, and I needed to watch my own back.

* * *

 **Sam: bulky muscles. He has whiter skin, with a brown eye color.**

 **Shelby: Cree Ivey**


	13. Nine Reaping

**SORRY EVERYONE it was the ONE FEMALE and the SIX MALE!**

* * *

Declan Malone- District Nine male

The hardest part of the Reaping wasn't the moment when the paper was in Chimera's hand and we all felt the terror of not knowing if it was our name. It wasn't the screams the Reaped children made, or the worse noises from the parents on the edge of the crowd. It wasn't seeing which children were so sure they'd make it and which were already facing their deaths. The worst part of the Reaping, the part nothing else could ever touch, was knowing that in ten years, my son would be where I was standing.

Everything that led to Micah was a bad choice. I shouldn't have been with that crowd. I shouldn't have blown off my brother when he told me to make something of myself. I shouldn't have underestimated the risks of sex and I _definitely_ should have spent the lousy couple of cents to buy a condom. But there was nothing bad about Micah. He was the best thing in my world, the sun of my life. I loved my little boy so hard it hurt, and I never wanted that pain to end. I loved tucking him in, and hearing his little socked feet in the morning, and cooking him breakfast, and his tiny arms when he hugged me.

He didn't know why I hugged him so long before I left him with Madeline. She was a few months older than me, so she was watching him for my last Reaping. It was the first time I'd seen her in months. After breaking up with me, she said she'd watch Micah half the time and I'd have him the other half. But half turned into a quarter, then an eighth, and then never at all. I would never understand how parties and revelry and meaningless sex was more important to her than our son, and it was the only thing I truly hated her for. Mostly, I was indifferent to her. If she didn't want to love our son, I didn't want her in Micah's life.

Nina and I walked together to the Reaping. She'd stood by me during my wild years, even though she made her disapproval known. We were best friends, and she was the woman Micah needed in his life. Madeline wasn't a mother, and I would forever be grateful to Nina for providing him the things only a mother can give a son. We chatted as we walked, reminiscing about old pranks and stories.

At the Reaping center, I ran across my old friends for the first time since Madeline left us. They had the same gang bandannas and stolen chains and watches. I'd never noticed how preposterous it all looked.

"Hey, Declan. Not babysitting today?" Cutter asked.

 _It's not babysitting if it's my son,_ I thought. _And that's not even your real name,_ Lester. I would have said as much, but Nina's hand gripped my arm. I knew she was right, and this time, I listened. We left them behind us, still calling jabs after me.

I'd never taken tesserae, so I didn't worry at the Reaping. There were so many kids who wouldn't eat if they didn't take tesserae every month. Just one more Reaping, and I could go home to Micah and everything would be perfect for ten more years. Just one last name on a slip and one more dead boy.

"Declan Malone!"

I didn't make a sound, but I heard Nina's cry. I looked over the crowd as I walked up the stairs. For that moment, I would have taken anything. I would have let anyone die in my place, even though I didn't deserve it. There was no pride, only my son. But no one came forward, and I stood on the stage, breathing heavily and shaking.

The last time I cried was when I held Micah for the first time. The next time was when I saw him in the distance, waving at his daddy on the stage.

* * *

Chastity Burgess- District Nine female

"Why do _I_ have to go the Reaping? I don't deserve this," I complained to my mother as she brushed my hair.

"I know, sweetie. Don't worry about it. They'll never pick a perfect little girl like you," she said. "I'm making cinnamon rolls for breakfast. That's your favorite, right?"

"I don't want any. I'm not hungry," I said. Actually, I _was_ hungry. I would have loved cinnamon rolls. But cinnamon rolls were for fat, ugly girls who couldn't control themselves and ate unhealthy food. _I_ was beautiful and perfect, partly because I took care of my body and didn't overfill it. That, and I was also smart and fast and everything else.

"Oh, you have to at least _try_ one," my mother said. "They smell so good." The scent was heavy, filling the room from the kitchen down the hallway. I could smell how moist and spicy and chewy they were.

"Oh, all right," I sighed. I sat dramatically at the table and took a roll. I ate one bite and tore the rest into pieces so it looked like I'd eaten more.

"At least you get to wear your new dress," my mother said.

"It took long enough to make," I said. I'd been waiting weeks.

"It's very fancy," she said. "And all hand-sewed."

"Next time, I want one from the store. One of the ones with lace on the edges and a bow for the waist," I said.

"Of course, darling," my mother said. She liked buying dresses almost as much as I liked wearing them.

"Maybe next year I won't have to go. I'll talk to some people and they'll see I'm not the one they should send," I said.

"I'm sure you can do anything you set your mind to," my mother said.

I put on my new shoes, the shiny black ones with straps that buttoned. My mother thought I was too young to wear high heels, but I put on my big eyes and she cracked. She also helped me with my makeup, which was natural but still set off my pink lips and blue eyes. _I really am much too pretty to Reap,_ I thought.

I hated being with all the other children at the Reaping. Almost everyone was my friend, of course, except the losers I didn't want to be seen with. I just didn't like being packed in like a sardine, with everyone sweating and fidgeting around me. I felt like one little speck in a vast sea, and not set apart like I should be.

 _And we don't even have a pretty escort,_ I thought. _Chimera is old and he wears stupid outfits. Why can't we have someone pretty like Bubbles?_

At least it was going to be my last Reaping. Mark my words, I was never going to another stupid Reaping again.

* * *

 **Just a Six and Ten male and I'm ready! I'm about to reopen the slots, since I think the submitters forgot they had a reservation.**

 **Declan: Tyler Posey**

 **Chastity: long blonde hair, blue eyes, and relatively clear skin. She's stick thin and always wears makeup whenever she can get her hands on it, and stands at about 5'2".**


	14. District Six Reaping

**I got impatient, so the One Female slot is open. It goes to whoever gets me a form first, not gonna lie.**

* * *

Carter Wheelson- District Six male

 _I'm never going into the Games. If they tried, they'd have another think coming. I'd show them what happens if you try to mess with me._

It didn't even matter that I took a lot of tesserae. So did everyone else. Half the kids in Six took out dozens and dozens of tesserae to fund their drug habits. It got to where they were cutting into my market. I just took them out to sell for pocket money. Stupid Capitol, setting up a cash cow for everyone. I didn't know why more people didn't take advantage of it. Guess most people just aren't as smart as me. Sadly, though, this was my last Reaping. No more easy money for me.

There was a shiny new wedding ring on my finger as I stood in the crowd. Suli was a nice girl. Dumb as a post, but nice. She loved me, or at least the pretty things I bought her. I knew I had to get that chick on lock, since she was the only one who respected me. People always seemed to have a problem with me. Sure, I could be difficult. I told things like they were and didn't take any grief. But I had my upsides. I didn't get all hung up on tradition, for one. When Sufi surprised me at the end of the date by kneeling down and proposing, I went with it. Maybe I was happy that this time _she_ got _me_ something shiny, or maybe I just thought it would be nice having someone around to cook and things when I got tired of living with my parents. And I admired her for going after the best.

This had to be one of Otho's last years. He was pushing seventy, and he could barely walk up on the stage. He had to use a cane, which of course was ridiculously bedazzled. Maybe after he kicked it or they finally kicked him out, I could take his job. I certainly looked a lot more appealing.

"Good morning, everyone!" he wheezed. "It's time to pick another name!" He fished around in the bowl, veiny fingers clawing at the paper. He picked out a slip and held it up, squinting over his glasses.

"Carter Wheelson!" he announced.

 _Oh, you had to do it. Whoever's coming for me, sorry._

I stood still as everyone turned to look at me. Two Peacekeepers picked me out of the crowd and came my way. I tensed up for the fight. I'd take out the smaller one first, then throw him at the bigger one to surprise him.

When the smaller Peacekeeper came within reach, I launched my fist at his face. I could only imagine how much this was going to hurt.

 _BZZAP!_

 _It's not fair to sneak up,_ I thought as I lay on the ground. Out of nowhere, a third Peacekeeper had appeared and kicked me across my entire body. The bigger Peacekeeper slung me over his shoulder and it was only then that I saw the smaller one was carrying a cattle prod.

 _Bull. In a fair fight, you know I'd have kicked your butt._

* * *

Carmelle Wheeler- District Six female

The primaries were over. The two candidates for new class council member were me and Jack Piston. Truth be told, I wouldn't be broken up either way. Jack was a good guy. A lot of our intended policies overlapped.

"This one is for both candidates. If elected, what policies do you intend to enact?" Becky Doppler asked from the middle of the class. Jack and I were in the front, behind two podiums. Mr. Keaton sat behind us, observing and sometimes asking questions.

"I would try to consolidate homework so there's less of it, but it's more relevant," Jack said, after looking at me to see if I wanted to go first. "Also, I want to start a program that provides after-school activities for low-income families, in order to lessen Six's problem with underage morphlings."

After a respectful pause, I said my piece. "I think education is about the mind, but also the body. I want to incorporate martial arts into physical education classes. It develops strength and athletics, but it also instills confidence and diligence. I want to focus on self-defense techniques, especially for female students."

"What's the biggest concern you face in the council?" Razer Mackham asked.

"Getting resources for students who want to go to college," I said.

"Plain old budget cuts," Jack said.

"I have a question," another student asked. "How are you going to make time for council duties when you're already busy as students?"

"I stopped playing flute in the band recently because my schedule was getting too hectic. It's important to know your limits," I said.

"Wow, that was really well-thought out," Jack said. "I was just going to say I'd drink a lot of coffee."

"One more question," Mr. Keaton asked. "Why should we elect you?"

"I'll listen to the students and be their representative instead of their boss," Jack said. "I'll be a team player, just like I am on the hoops court."

I didn't even need to think about this one. I'd had my answer ready since I started my campaign. I put on a beaming smile.

"Because everyone likes caramel!"

* * *

 **Carmelle won the election, BTW**

 **Carter: Blonde hair, thin, fair skin. Blue eyes**

 **Carmelle: Carmelle is average height, leaning a little on the tall side, and has shoulder-length wavy brown hair. She has hazel eyes, and is usually smiling. She has braces.**


	15. One Reaping

**Last one, woot!**

* * *

Lyon Cartier- District One male

 _There is something which you can do better than another. Listen to the inward voice and bravely obey that. Do the things at which you are great, not what you were never made for._

I'd read that line a thousand times, and it never lost its meaning. It made me think that all those centuries ago, Emerson was speaking straight to _me,_ and thought that _I_ had some unique talent never before seen. But still, worry punctured the happy feelings the book always brought up in me.

 _What if the thing I'm great at isn't winning the Hunger Games?_

It looked so ridiculous to an observer. I was a hulking ape of a young man who looked better suited to crush rocks than read philosophy. Emerson probably would have been surprised I could read at all, if he even thought I was the same species as he was. It was silly to hold that against him, though. We're all products of our times, and I'll seem just as barbaric and prejudiced to the people of the next century.

On the night before the Reaping, most volunteers were doing one of two things: training or sleeping. I couldn't bear to do either. Training would either be a waste of time, or I'd find something I was deficient at, and it would be too late to fix it and I'd only be more worried. Sleeping would be the best thing to do, but I was about to go into the Capitol. I wouldn't have time to read lofty things like Emerson there. I only had a few more hours to devote to books.

No one except my sister knew about my books. The other students would have laughed. The whole reason I was chosen was to be an antithesis to the lean, wiry males they'd been sending and who'd been failing for the last few years. It had gotten bad enough that the entire Academy shifted its paradigm, sending muscular tanks like me instead. If they knew I was actually more sensitive and secretly weaker than all those lithe assassins, they wouldn't have picked me. That was another thing to be insecure about. Not only was I unsure I was strong enough to do this, I didn't even fit the mold that was made just for me.

"You're still up, aren't you?"

Marseilles crept into the room, shutting the door quietly so as not to disturb our parents. My little sister saw right through my facade, since we sort of spent half our lives together. She was my number one hype man, whether I was pumping iron or expounding on my latest book. I hadn't told her, because I didn't want to put that sort of pressure on her, but she was my first thought when I imagined winning the Games. Dying was inevitable, and if it was in the Games, I could bear it if it was honorable. But losing her company was a worse thought than losing myself.

"You're going to do great. I know it," she said, sitting next to me and laying a hand on my arm.

"I'll try," I said. I looked out the window, even though I couldn't see anything in the darkness. There was silence, the sort that comes when two people are comfortable enough together that they don't need noise.

"I'm scared," I said softly. It scared me more to admit it.

"It's okay to be scared. It doesn't mean you're weak," Marseilles said. "It only means you know how much this means."

"I want to be what a volunteer is supposed to be," I said. I'd never felt like I belonged in One, or in my family. I felt like they all loved me and accepted me, but it seemed to be in spite of me, not because of me.

"A volunteer is supposed to be honorable," Marseilles said. "Honor is doing your duty even though you're scared."

"When did you get so wise?" I asked, smiling a little. Her hair was soft on my shoulder as she leaned against me.

"I learned it from you."

* * *

Diamonique Gemmin- District One female

I always get what I want. My family was rich, even by One standards. I just had to say the word and my parents rushed to get whatever their darling demanded. Truthfully, it unsettled me a little. It didn't seem right that I had this much power having done so little to earn it, and I wished they would just spend time with me and be normal instead of falling all over me. Sometimes I took their presents and gave them away to the few street kids and hobos I could find in One. Other times I kept them. I wasn't a poor little rich kid. I just sometimes felt like I should do something nice.

Training came easy to me. I liked the throwing knives and the camouflage. Everything else I kind of left alone. It was either too boring or too hard. I didn't even go to the Academy that often. My parents were rich enough to buy me a permanent spot whether or not I attended. When I felt like it, I went, and when I didn't, I stayed home.

Martie and I walked together to the Reaping center. My mother wanted me to make a family of my own, and I knew what she really wanted was grandchildren (but also for me to be happy. She just preferred both if possible). Martie was an eligible bachelor, and it turned out he was also a cool guy. He was training to be a goldsmith, which attracted me right away. He liked making pretty things and I liked designing pretty things. I usually only showed my best sketches and drawings to people, but Martie could see them all. Maybe we'd get married someday, but we weren't writing invitations just yet. We were just seventeen. We were young and dumb, and that was no time to make such a big decision.

As Bubbles fished around in the bowl, I absentmindedly thought about my next workout and whether I should do a run or take a rest day. That was the best part about One. Reapings were no big deal. You already knew whether or not you were going.

"Diamonique Gemmin!" Bubbles called.

 _Oh, that's funny,_ I thought. I could say I got closer to the Games than anyone but the chosen volunteer.

"Do we have any volunteers?"

I looked over at Zirconia Poirot, the chosen volunteer standing in the reserved spot at the front of the crowd. She was looking at the ground and nibbling on a fingernail. She looked up, then quickly back down.

" _Ahem._ Do we have any volunteers?" Bubbles asked.

 _What's she waiting for?_

Zirconia looked up again. She shook her head in a tiny motion, as though to herself, and looked down, wrapping her arms around herself. Next to her, Lyon looked away uncomfortably.

 _Oh my god._ She wasn't going to do it. She was chickening out. Numb with shock and disbelief, I started walking zombielike toward the stage.

"I volunteer!" half a dozen girls called, overlapping each other. Bubbles looked at them, then behind her at the crew. She put a hand to her earbud.

"Sorry! Volunteering time is over. Let's welcome our brave vol- uh, Tribute, Diamonique Gemmin!"

The crowd nearly boiled over as Bubbles Reaped a boy and Lyon stepped up. Careers and patriotic citizens of One crowded nearer Zirconia, jeering and sniping at her. One of the girls behind her shoved her down, and two more started rubbing her face in the dirt. Even as she wailed and the Peacekeepers broke up the mob, I could only think about one thing.

 _I don't want this._

* * *

 **Lyon: Looks like Guerschon Yabusele**

 **Diamonique: Curly, luscious black hair with blue eyes and pale, unflawed, dark brown skin, fit physique. She's about five feet and four inches tall, and she has a thin frame that borders on unhealthy.**


	16. U Don't Think it Be Like it Is But it Do

Blake Armani- District One mentor

"I'm just glad no one took my spot," Diamonique bluffed. "I couldn't volunteer, since I actually got Reaped. Funny how things turn out." She glanced nervously at Lyon. He glanced back for a second, then said nothing. Surprise, relief, and confusion flooded Diamonique's eyes.

 _Sure, kid._ Like I wasn't privy to the Academy's decisions, being a _Victor_ and all. Heck, my recommendation was almost a guarantee. Not that I usually even bothered making one. I'd left the Games behind long ago. Only a few steadfast zealots, like Estrella and Hyden, decided all that. But if Diamonique wanted to play it like that and Lyon wanted to let her, that was their business. I just wondered what he was getting out of it.

* * *

Avariella Hanson- District Two mentor

For the first day, it was all me. Pray would be catching up in a bit, but Enobaria had a huge Krav Maga competition and she pleaded for her mother to come. So it was just me, Kodiak and Jaydalin.

"So you finally convinced them?" I asked Jaydalin. She'd been pushing for a slot since she was twelve.

"They finally wised up," she said. For a Career, confidence isn't just about bragging. A positive mental attitude is necessary for survival.

I hated legacy Careers. It never ended well, not even once. Kodiak's parents already lost his sister. He would almost certainly be next. Being a Career only tilted the odds. It didn't erase them.

* * *

Gidget Ford- District Three mentor

"Shoo, shoo, go on," I muxed at my children, who were wrestling on the seat of the booth I was trying to mentor in. Give kids an entire train, and where do they want to be? The one car they're not supposed to be in.

"Sorry," I said to Toshiba and Iosefka. "Their father has a nasty cold and Max is always sick."

"It's no problem. I like kids," Toshiba said. Iosefka lifted the tablecloth to peek at my daughter playing underneath.

"So dumb question, but how do you win the Games?" Toshiba asked.

"Even dumber answer, but I'm not really sure."

* * *

Careen Ellis- District Four mentor

"I feel like I have a lot to live up to," Siren said. "There have been a lot of kickass female Careers lately."

"The most important thing is living at all," I said.

"Man I hope the Arena isn't a desert," she said.

* * *

Shane Donegal- District Four mentor

"Did you ever feel like volunteering was a mistake?" Faust asked.

"Every second since I left the Arena," I said. Faust went pale. "But not to get all heavy."

* * *

Sky Levings- District Five mentor

I didn't even know what to make of her. The name, the look, the personality… Study was an entire _novel._ She was so complicated and esoteric I wasn't sure my knowledge was even relevant. She could win, but darned if I knew how she'd do it.

* * *

Erwin Jacobs- District Five mentor

"Study and I are going to take care of each other," Wit proclaimed.

"Only one person can win," I said.

"Yeah." he squinted off, trying to reconcile it. "We'll make it work."

"Eventually, one of you will betray the other. There's no way around it. Sorry to break it to you, but you have to face it."

* * *

Lancia Audren- District Six mentor

"So. Tried to fight a Peacekeeper?" I asked Carter.

"They're cheaters," he said.

"No kidding. You know they used to call handguns peacemakers?" I asked. "Same concept."

"I'd like to try to get lots of sponsors," Carmelle said. "I'm not too strong, but I'm persuasive."

"Very good. See? Know your limits," I said, looking at Carter.

* * *

Hades Rodriguez- District Seven male

"I was so happy when you won," Merry said. "Everyone in the country was."

"Thanks! I was too," I said.

Loki got up. "Do you mind if I look around? I'm very thankful for your help, but I think strategies are going to be a little different. I can't really hide like you did," he said, indicating his tall frame.

"No problem. I get it," I said. There wasn't much I could tell him. He didn't really need my help anyways.

* * *

Tillo Peters- District Eight mentor

I wasn't the self-sacrificing type. I would have left any of my allies except maybe Hunter, and I would have wanted the same from them. Okay, maybe Lyte, not that he would have let me. I didn't know what made a person do something like that, but then, I guess I would have done the same for my son. I hoped I would.

"I told my parents I wasn't scared," Chenille said, staring into a bowl of soup. "The last thing I ever did was lie to them."

"You're gonna have to get used to lying," I said.

* * *

Nassor Doyle- District Nine mentor

Declan didn't say a word. He looked at the table, lost in his own world. There was nothing I could say about something like that. I just let him have his thoughts.

Chastity's arms were folded, and she scowled at the table. Her chin was shaking, but I didn't comment on it. She thought nobody knew she was trying not to cry. I'd do everything I could, but I didn't think there was much to do about that, either.

* * *

Calvary Warsaw- District Ten mentor

"They were gonna make you marry some gross old man?" I asked Delaney. "Ew! You should talk to Tillo. She knows all about that. But don't tell her I sent you. I still don't like her."

Jerrimiah was a fine cut of beef. Ten accents could be so stupid, but he made it sound like the old South, with iced tea and dewy magnolias. I turned to ask Cornflower what she thought and saw her shoving rolls into her purse.

"What?" I asked. She looked up.

"They're free," she said.

"You're rich!" I said.

"I didn't get that way by buying bread."

* * *

Frankie Disney- District Eleven mentor

Ambrosia declined to sit at the table, preferring to move all around the car looking at shiny things and Capitol gewgaws. That left me with Aedrick. I moved my arm across the table to get a salt shaker, and he jerked back.

"Are you all right?" I asked. It would be odd for someone to have PTSD before the Games even began.

"I'm fine," he said.

Just as well. Being high-strung was better in the Games. Either high strung, or not strung at all. Like me.

* * *

Nubu Sanders- District Twelve mentor

"I'm scared for my family," Shelby said, bent over the table like an old woman.

"I've been through this over and over," I said gently. "They'll make it."

"They're not as strong as most families," she said. "They're already messed up."

"We need to worry about you. About getting you home to them," I said.

"I'm strong," Sam said, so quiet it was more to himself. "Maybe strong enough."


	17. Skin Deep

**Here's a new Four vignette since I forgot it was Havelock, not Faust.**

* * *

Shane Donegal- District Four mentor

Havelock noticed my odd, probably hard to distinguish expression. He made an attempt at a smile.

"Yeah, I'm Floki's brother," he said.

"I know," I said. "You're going to regret this." I knew I looked like a sad old man, but that was how I felt. And Havelock was never going to get there.

* * *

Rhoda Hamilton- Head Stylist

Being a stylist wasn't nearly as hard as being a Career, but it was way harder than most people knew. Every District had its own ideas and every stylist wanted his or her Tribute to win. Getting them to work together was like herding cats. While every District was allowed to have its own look, if none of them went together, it would be a hot mess. There had to be some cohesion, and that took a real eye for fashion. There were color combinations and clashing fabrics to avoid, and there was the simple fact that no one look was perfect for all the different body types the Tributes displayed. It sounded silly and on the face it was, but it required some hardcore pattern recognition skills and quick thinking. At least it kept me on my toes.

* * *

Hollan Makhpiya- District one stylist

"Oh my gosh, you're so big!"

Lyon was built like a bear. I didn't even know if I had any clothes that big. He was about to be wearing a blanket if I couldn't get some stuff delivered _fast._ At least Diamonique was standard human size.

* * *

Tigris Chatte- District Two stylist

I caught Kodiak sneaking a look at my newest tattoos. Even nowadays, body modifications of the type I wanted took a while, and I was relishing the long process.

"Do you like them?" I asked.

"They're pretty cool," he said. "Are you going to keep going?"

"All the way," I said.

"You must really like tigers," Jaydalin said.

"I've just always sort of known," I said. They were the most beautiful, enigmatic things I'd ever seen. If I had a choice, I would have liked to have been born a tiger.

* * *

Cilantro Pestle- District Three stylist

I was getting too old for this. I wasn't tired or bored, but it was just plain getting harder. All these new trends were leaving me behind. That one year we were all obsessed with head-to-toe dyed wool. It boggled my mind sometimes. In fashion, one day you're in, and the next you're out. Toshiba and Iosefka had all my enthusiasm, but maybe it was about time for me to hang up the old palette and take up golf.

* * *

Rouge Twain- District Four stylist

"You're so much handsomer than your brother!" I said to Havelock

"Uh, thanks," he said.

"He had a rugged thing going on, but you're positively cherubic!" I said.

"Just what I was going for," Havelock said.

* * *

Blush Paletti- District Five stylist

Wit had a very warm complexion. I was aiming for a metallic look with some nice golds and bronzes. Study was darker, so it was a natural juxtaposition. She had some input of her own, too. It seemed she and Wit were fast friends and both of them liked ravens. Black goes with everything, so that was easy enough.

* * *

Puff Auri- District Six stylist

Carter was a little imp, which made me happy. I hated it when I got nice, sweet children. I loved making them pretty, but it got me all weepy thinking about how they were going to die. With Carter, I didn't have to feel bad. I didn't even have to put in any effort, which made my job easier. It was a shame about Carmelle, though. She kept apologizing for Carter, like just being in the same District made her responsible. She was a fine young woman, and I did hope she won.

* * *

Flora Kettle- District Seven stylist

Loki was already so tall and lean, I didn't even have to do anything to him. Some basic natural makeup for the lights, and he was ready to go. Merry was almost as easy. With that big happy smile, she lit up the room. I put on some bright lipstick to really show it off. Those two already had everything I offered.

* * *

Mint Goblet- District Eight stylist

To be honest, I wasn't feeling it this year. Eight should be the easiest District, but it's hard to make something stand out when the theme for your clothes is… clothes.

"See anything you like?" I asked Chenille and Weaver, sweeping my arm around the room.

"This is kind of pretty," Chenille said about a simple black leotard with a patchwork skirt.

"You got it. Next," I said to Weaver.

"This matches," he said about a patchwork suit.

"Done and done," I said. "Easy day."

* * *

Baste Marinade- District Nine stylist

"You're in for a real treat," I told Chastity. "I'm so glad Nine is the farm District."

"That's really Ten," Chastity said.

"You don't have farms?" I asked.

"We do, but-"

"Good!" I said. "Just check _this_ out!"

 _Oh dear._ That was not the reaction I was expecting. _How could she not like this? It's so cute!_

* * *

Phoebe Vane- District Ten stylist

Why did I have to get Ten? It was so dreadfully jejune and pedestrian. I was an _artist,_ not a farmer. I kept putting in for other Districts, but until Cilantro finally retired I was stuck with the hicks. But then, art is built on struggle.

"Can I be a bird?" Delaney asked.

 _A bird?_ It could work. Much of art is built on the graceful and elegant forms bird possess. _Swan Lake_ came immediately to mind. Nothing is higher art than ballet.

* * *

Creme Brulee- District Eleven stylist

"I'm a beautiful _nymph,_ such a beautiful _nymph,_ and I'm covered in _glitter,_ and look at my _wings…"_ Ambrosia improvised a little song as she twirled in front of the mirror. Aedrick looked into another mirror with much less enthusiasm.

"I'm a beautiful nymph," he said flatly.

* * *

Cuisine Martinique- District Twelve mentor

"SO Phoebe hates working in Ten but rumor has it Cuisine's retiring soon. She'll probably take his job, but Mint says Snow doesn't like Phoebe's work so he might not give it to her. Mint says Tigris wants that District but I don't think so. She's really happy in Two…"

Shelby didn't seem very interested in all the Capitol news. Well, too bad. She was a captive audience.


	18. Laurels

**Sometimes I do this to change things up. Priam's plain text, Tallulah is italics, just in case.**

* * *

"Good evening, Panem! I'm Priam Steed!"

" _And I'm Tallulah Tulle!"_

"And this is the Fifty-Second Laurel Awards! Where we view, _re_ view, and rate the fashions and faux pas of the Hunger Games parade."

* * *

" _Blah blah blah- okay, Polyphemus is done, let's see what we've got. District One… it's all right. They match, it fits the District. Nothing fancy, but okay. 7/10"_

"There's so much to do with One. It feels lazy when it's just some jewels slapped onto armor. 6/10"

* * *

"Hmm, this is interesting. Sort of a stretch, since Two is masonry, but they _do_ have Capitol ties."

" _Is she Aphrodite?"_

"That's _Athena._ You can tell by the helmet and gauntlets. And he's… hmm, 'deus montanea'. That means 'mountain god'. Nice outfit, but the Greeks didn't have a mountain god. 5/10."

" _But it's pretty! 6/10."_

* * *

"I mean, it _does_ fit the theme."

" _We haven't used computer mouses in, like, a millenium."_

"Or keyboards. But they absolutely did fit the theme. 6/10."

" _6/10, every one of those points for theme use. Zero for aesthetics."_

* * *

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."

" _Is that one of your fancy books?"_

"This is exactly what Dickens was talking about."

" _HAHAHAHAHAHAH!"_

"What?"

" _It's a_ lock! _Have_ lock _Grimm!"_

"Simply stunning. Why the fishnets? Though that's the only part of this that fits. I can't believe I said that."

" _He's a_ sexy _lock. Remember when we all got obsessed with that for Halloween like three years ago?"_

"How could I forget? But Siren looks great, at least. Some anatomical touches like the webbed hands and the natural coloration of the scales. 10/10 for her, 0/10 for him."

" _10/10 for a sexy mermaid and for the sexiest lock I've ever seen."_

* * *

" _There's always one."_

"Batteries."

" _With goth makeup."_

"Batteries are well known for their emo tendencies."

" _Is there a number that's less than zero?"_

"There are infinite numbers less than zero."

" _Whatever the lowest is, I give them that."_

"Negative infinity it is."

* * *

"Racing in that outfit is not a good idea."

" _It's supposed to be sexy!"_

"Know when you fall off your bike and get road rash on skin that isn't covered?"

" _Oh…."_

"Digging the Amelia Earhart look, though. 10/10 for her, 6/10 on average"

" _Who's that? A pilot, I guess. Solid 6/10 for those two"_

"We'll be right back, so don't go away!"

* * *

" _Tired of boring clothes that look the same no matter how much you wash them? You need Tie-dye Pods! Toss in a pod and get a brand-new wardrobe whenever you wash your clothes. You'll never have to buy clothes again! But of course you should, because then you can use Tie-Dye Pods on them! Also available in glitter and glow-in-the-dark."_

" _Have a good time with Bacchus Wine."_

" _Caligula pillows. You'll Caligu-love them or your money back!"_

* * *

" _Aww, that's so cute! Merry and Ambrosia are waving at each other and comparing nymph outfits!"_

"And they're both District-appropriate! Solid showing from Seven and Eleven. But why is Loki holding the seat of his pants?"

" _Because he's practically sewn into them- not that I mind- and they've split."_

"Since he _is_ a pretty solid piece, I award them both tens."

" _Hear, hear."_

* * *

" _Chenille's such a cutie. She loves that poofy skirt, and I do too."_

"Tasteful, subdued, coordinated. Nice job from Eight."

" _They're both so young. That's too bad."_

"That's just the way it goes. Don't start wars, you know? This is what happens. 9/10"

" _9/10."_

* * *

" _The Swan Princess is here!"_

"Swan doesn't taste as good as you'd think. It's so oily."

" _Better than turtle."_

"A swan and a cowboy. A clashing juxtaposition. The hardiness of Ten alongside its natural beauty. 10/10."

" _A beautiful winged swan and a rough and tough cowboy. 10/10."_

* * *

"We saw them earlier on the edges, but now the other two nymphs are in the spotlight."

" _Aedrick is less than impressed."_

"Ambrosia balances him out."

" _Why the long face? He's so pretty. 9/10 for him, 10/10 for Ambrosia."_

"8/10 for being so glum, 10/10 for being so into it."

* * *

" _A… cowgirl? Shelby's from Twelve…"_

"Counting is hard for some people."

" _That's cute, a little fake pistoOOOOHMYGOSH!"_

* * *

WE INTERRUPT THIS PROGRAM TO BRING YOU THIS BREAKING NEWS BULLETIN. THERE WERE NO INJURIES FROM THE ACCIDENTAL DISCHARGE. THE PARADE WILL RESUME SHORTLY.

* * *

"Why did the stylists even have a real gun? And where did they get bullets that old?"

" _Good costume, terrible props. 5/10."_

"10/10 for realism, 0/10 for common sense."

* * *

"And now it's time for the awards."

" _My favorite part."_

"First up is Best Use of District. This year's Laurel goes to… Carmelle Wheeler of District Six!"

" _Next up:_ Worst _use of District. Beating out even the girl who literally shot the audience, this one goes out to Study Furado and Wit Castiglione of District Six."_

"And now we have Best Execution. This year's Laurel winner is… Siren Kaecko, the mesmerizing, ethereal mermaid of District Four."

" _This year I have the honor of presenting the What in the World Were They Thinking Laurel. While_ I _loved this one, I am afraid the people have spoken, and this one goes to Havelock "Sexy Lock" Grimm of District Four._

"I have two envelopes this time. First we have the Most Unexpected Laurel, which I'm sure no one will be surprised to learn will be going to Shelby Mayd of District Twelve. Next I have the Worst Costume Laurel. This dubious honor falls upon the deserving shoulders of double winners Study and Wit of District Six."

" _And this year_ I _get the best one! This year's Best Costume Laurel, the most coveted award Panem has to offer, goes to… Delaney Rogers-Stone of District Ten!"_

"And all too soon, that's all we have. We've waited for months, and only 364 days until the next Parade!"

" _We should do one every month."_

"We need _some_ kids left. Someone's gotta make the next generation."

" _Party pooper."_


	19. Careers

Lyon Cartier- District One male

 _I shouldn't._

I knew I shouldn't ally with the Careers. It went against everything I'd resolved. I'd wanted to take my own path and live self-sufficiently. I told myself I'd never be another normal Career, sacrificing individuality for a slightly better chance at a cookie-cutter victory. It wasn't that I resented that practicality in others, but I'd told myself there were more important things- that living a worthwhile life was more important than living a secure life.

Yet here I was, about to see if Diamonique wanted to start rounding up a pack. She wasn't exactly a volunteer, but she had training and I knew she wanted to be one. She didn't want anyone else to know about the circumstances of her Reaping, and I didn't think it was really my place to say. Maybe sabotage would have been the smart thing to do, but it might also be that having an ally was better. I was just going to stay out of it.

When I asked Diamonique about the pack, I knew I wasn't thinking the way I should be. I was aware of my mistake and aware that I was _aware_ of it, and I still did it. When she enthusiastically agreed, I hesitated and had to quickly fake a smile before she wondered why I was reacting so weird. Some part of me had hoped she'd refused, and given me a chance to back out. But I couldn't let her down now, and it did feel so good to have allies I could pretend were friends.

By the time we got the Twos and Fours in on it, I'd brushed away my concerns as just that. Self-actualization was important, but physical needs came first. I knew that from my studies. I'd always been more interested in meta-knowledge. I didn't want to know how to survive, but why survival was something to strive for. I'd studied Maslow to understand the components of survival instead of only knowing the practical side. If I wanted to go out and live my best life, I first had to make sure I _had_ a life.

 _I can still be me in the pack,_ I thought. Even if I was a member of the pack, that didn't define me. I was different from my allies, just like they were all different from me. I was bigger than Kodiak and wider than Havelock. I was quieter than Siren, with her chatting and her little sea songs. We all brought something different, and I could learn from all of them. Sometimes discovery is a process of elimination. I wasn't any of them, and out of what I wasn't, I could find out what I was.

* * *

Diamonique Gemmin- District One female

When the parade was over, I asked to see Blake alone. The train rides had been so hectic and crowded I hadn't gotten a chance, but I desperately wanted to confess.

"I'm not the chosen volunteer," I said. "I just got Reaped. I'm not ready for this."

"Yeah, I know," Blake said. She sat heavily on a blue damask couch.

"I don't know what to do," I said.

"It's a bad situation, no doubt about it," Blake said. "But don't go losing your mind yet. There's still a chance."

My heart leapt wildly. "You really think so?"

"You know you're in over your head. That's good. You're honest with yourself and willing to learn. It's an uphill battle and the odds aren't good, but this is the best we could have hoped for," Blake said.

"I got into the Career pack," I said. "They don't know." _Except Lyon,_ I thought. I didn't know why he hadn't told them. It was driving me crazy, trying to figure out why he was helping me and how it had to be a plot.

"They won't dig too deep. There's plenty of actual volunteers who suck," Blake said.

"Can you teach me privately? I don't want them to see me being bad at training," I said.

"I was going to suggest just that," Blake said.

"I want to learn how to use a sword," I said. It was one of the simpler weapons- just point and stab.

"What do you already know?" Blake asked.

"Throwing stars, a little," I said. I didn't mention the camouflage. It seemed so silly. I'd use it and even practice with it, but that wasn't worth Blake's time.

"Good. It's a start," Blake said.

I looked down at the floor. "I still don't have a very good chance, do I?" I asked.

"No," Blake said. "But no one does."

* * *

Kodiak Alward- District Two male

The other Careers thought the swimming station was silly. I had been on the fence about it, but hearing that made up my mind. I tugged one a tight, clammy pair of swimming trunks and jumped in.

There were instructors, of course, so it wasn't like I was going to drown. Swimming was pretty easy anyway. I had a little trouble floating because I was so muscular, but once I got that, it was common sense to start moving around. I wasn't going to be a merman or anything, but I wouldn't drown.

"Are we swimming?" Siren asked from the poolside. She tore off her shirt and pants, revealing a black sports bra and athletic undershorts, and cannonballed in. She didn't come up until she was at the other side of the pool, having traveled the whole way in one breath.

"How do you do that?" I asked. She'd moved like an eel, and it was like she didn't even need to breathe.

"Everyone can do that in Four," she shrugged.

For everything I thought I knew, I was amazed at what other people took for granted. Some people could paint amazing things without even a reference. Others could solve math equations that looked like Greek to me. And Siren could swim like I'd never be able to, and she didn't even think it was a big deal. I certainly wasn't too proud to pick her brain.

Siren showed me a few things, and I didn't even think she was trying to mess me up. It was just some things from one ally to another. Once I started to get wrinkly, I toweled off and moved on to the survival stations. It was good to be well-rounded. Too many Careers had dehydrated or frozen to death because they thought the survival stations were lame.

"Hey, Kodiak!" Lyon's voice came from nowhere, breaking my concentration on the construction of a fire bow. "We're going to go hang out in the One lounge."

I looked up and saw from the clock that the training day was almost over. I hadn't even realized.

"Okay," I said, getting up. "What are you all doing?"

"Just hanging out," Lyon said. "Getting to know each other. Team stuff."

"Great," I said. It seemed funny to think of a motley crew of murderers as a team, but we'd last longer if we worked together at first. It just wouldn't last.

* * *

Jaydalin Elliots- District Two female

Siren made a very serious face and clasped her hands together on the table. "Now, let's all go around and say our names, our Districts, and one interesting thing about ourselves." A chorus of groans answered her and she started cackling.

"But really, let's not," Kodiak said.

"What do you all actually want to do?" Lyon asked.

"Truth or dare!" Philomena's eyes and nose appeared in the door frame as she interrupted.

"That does sound fun," Siren said, overlooking the question of why One's escort was lurking in the hallway outside our room.

"Ooh I'll go tell Hollan!" Philomena said, vanishing as quickly as she'd come. _When did we invite you?_ I wondered but didn't verbalize.

Philomena told Hollan. Hollan told Tigris. Tigris told Catullus, the escort from Four. Catullus told _everyone._ And so a gaggle of stylists, escorts, and mentors from One, Two and Four clustered around a table, eating party food and playing Truth or Dare.

"Ooh, it's my turn! I pick… _Siren!"_ Catullus said.

"Uhh, truth," she said.

"Have you ever kissed someone?" Catullus asked, stifling a scandalized giggle.

"I kissed Shad Taylor in third grade. We broke up after I broke his fishing pole," she said.

It was my turn next. I'd been trying to think of a truth or dare, but nothing was really coming to mind. I didn't want to hold things up, so I blurted, "Diamonique."

"Dare," she said quickly.

"I dare you to let Tigris draw something on your face," I said. The stylists all _ooh_ ed, except Tigris, who took a tube of purple lipstick from her pocket and set to work. Diamonique scrunched her eyes as she nervously waited for the masterpiece to be finished.

"Is it something dumb?" she asked, unable to see the howling wolf on her forehead.

"It's a _dick,"_ Havelock said. Diamonique gasped and ran for the bathroom.

"It is _not!"_ she yelled a minute later.

"My turn," Ava said, grinning wickedly. "I pick _Jaydalin!"_

"Uh… dare," I said, and regretted it. I couldn't even think of a question as embarrassing as a dare could easily be.

"I dare you to kiss Kodiak," Ava said.

"Hey, it's not my dare!" Kodiak said.

"What, you don't want to kiss me?" I asked, feeling a little offended.

"Maybe I'm seeing someone," he said.

"Are you?" I asked. I wouldn't go through with it if he had someone special.

"No," he admitted, and he leaned in. We gave each other a quick, light kiss, ignoring Siren's chant of "TONGUE TONGUE TONGUE!"

"Ooooh, she liked it," Rouge tittered.

I didn't, not really. Just enough to blush.

* * *

Havelock Grimm- District Four male

I was expecting to get attacked by the other Tributes, even my allies. I also knew that in a deeper sense, it was really the Capitol attacking all of us. Still, I didn't expect to get attacked by a nail-file wielding psycho with pink hair and glittery purple eyes.

I'd been minding my own business that day, training and eating and all that. As I was walking down a hallway toward the elevator, I came into the open area surrounding the empty middle of the Games center, which ran all the way up and was ringed by railings to give the building an open feel. That's when one of Hel's demons escaped.

"Havelock? Havelock Grimm?" came a voice from behind me. I turned around and saw a typically garish Capitolite looking at me with a curious expression. As soon as she confirmed it was me, her face twisted in fury.

"You don't deserve this!" she shrieked, and she shot her arm out at me. It raked across my face, splitting open my skin. I wondered crazily why she had claws, until I saw the bloody nail file she held.

"What the… _lady!"_ I sputtered, stumbling back and shielding my face with my hands. She came at me again and I turned tail and ran. I wasn't about to get in trouble for killing a Capitolite.

The chase didn't last long. The first man I ran past intercepted the girl and tried to hold her back, and before she could get away the Peacekeepers showed up. They hauled her away, kicking and thrashing.

"You don't deserve sponsors! I love you, Kodiak!" she screamed. I held my throbbing face, still trying to figure out what had just happened.

"The good news is there's no nerve damage," the doctor said later, after he'd sprayed new skin on and bandaged me up. "Unfortunately, there _were_ some cosmetic effects." He held a mirror up to me and I saw the thin red scar.

"That's not so bad. Can you fix it?" I asked.

"If you win the Games, we'll have you right as rain in no time," the doctor said brightly.

 _No problem,_ I thought. But after a few minutes of sitting while medics checked a few vitals and fussed, it started to weigh on me. I'd never thought that much about my looks. I knew I was "pretty" but it didn't mean much. But it bothered me that they could be gone, just like that. What bothered me more was the shock of it all. You thought you were safe walking down a hall. You didn't think you'd just get attacked by a maniac and have your face slashed open. It happened just like that, and I'd never feel the same safety again.

* * *

Siren Kaecko- District Four female

Four Tributes tend to fall victim to stereotyping. We all know how to swim, right? And we all use tridents. And we're all pretty and most of us like to sing. I liked to think we were a little more complex than that. I said that as a girl from Four who liked to swim, used a trident, had been called pretty on occasion, and liked to sing. I said that as I sat eating lunch with my mentor, a gorgeous woman from Four who surfed and liked to swim. I said that as we sat in a seafood restaurant built into an aquarium.

"Must be deja vu all over again for you," I said to Careen.

"Nah, you're taller than me," she said, spearing her salt-crusted snapper.

I picked out a piece of eel from my sashimi plate and savored its buttery texture. "Did you have fun in the Games?"

Careen sighed and leaned back in her chair, calling up old memories. "I took it a lot better than a lot of Victors, even other Careers," she said. "A lot of things worked out, and I didn't have to kill that many people. Only one girl really gave me a fight. Des was an Amazon. It could have gone either way."

"Why'd you want to fight?" I asked.

"I wanted the challenge. Why'd you climb the mountain? It was there. Why'd you volunteer? Because I could," she said.

"I worry about that. If I do win, what is there after that? All the challenge will be gone," I said.

"I thought the same. I found ways around it. You've seen me out during the hatching season guiding the turtles to the water. Maybe you've seen me out surfing and noticed I always go for the roughest waves. I find ways to fill the time," Careen said.

I imagined a future where I'd won and was left with the rest of my life. What would I do? I could throw myself into teaching, chasing my past highs and helping others reach the same heights. I could marry, like Careen, or maybe keep a string of beaus and never tie myself down to one. The possibilities were endless, except for one: there would never be another Games.

"Maybe I'll get the other Victors together and we can fight," I said.

Careen laughed. "I've imagined the same thing," she said.


	20. Anti-Careers

**Merry Christmas!**

* * *

Delaney Rogers-Stone- District Ten female

The crossbow bolt thudded into the target, much closer to the middle than I expected. It wasn't a bullseye or anything, but it was better than what you'd think for someone who had practiced as much as I had.

 _I think that's about as good as I'm going to get,_ I thought. If I shot again, it probably wouldn't be as good, and then my last shot would be bad. Not that it made a difference, but I was superstitious enough to want to end on a high note. Training time was almost over anyway. I set the bow back onto the table and left to go exploring.

The Games Center was full of stores and activities and all sorts of things. Mostly they were frequented by Capitolites visiting to "experience the Games" and stare at the Tributes. All the merchants saw their opportunity, though. Any Tribute who wandered in was immediately pointed out, fawned over, and offered free stuff, since the exposure was worth any stuff we could buy.

I passed by the fancier stores and found a cosy room with shelves and chests lined with little knick-knacks and ornaments. I didn't need more dust-collectors, but I thought I might find something cute for Annalise.

A little orange-and-white cat caught my eye. It was holding a golden plaque with a foreign letter on it, and it had one paw in the air. I picked it up and held it.

"You like it?" the storekeeper asked.

"Why are they holding up a paw?" I asked, looking at the shelf of similar cats of different sizes and materials, all holding up one paw or the other.

"It's a lucky cat," the storekeeper said. "That one invites in fortune. The ones with the other paw invite in money."

"I think I need this one more," I said. It did no good to have money if I didn't win the Games, and if I did, I wouldn't need it.

I wrote a letter to go along with the cat, tucking it into the little box the storekeeper had packaged it in. I gave it to Calvary to give to Annalise. I didn't want to wait until I won the Games… assuming I won. This way, whatever happened, Annalise would still get it. If good fortune didn't end up blowing my way, maybe it would find her.

* * *

Carmelle Wheeler- District Six female

The short knife I held was for scraping bark and whittling tinder, not stabbing people. I knew I wasn't going to learn to fight in a week. Everyone always said more people died from the elements than from other Tributes, and that was what I'd seen in all the Games I'd watched. I needed to know how to build a fire and track animals, not use a sword or a spear.

As I practiced, I kept an eye on the other Tributes. I knew I wanted an alliance, and I was watching to see where I might fit in. The Careers were out, of course. Shelby, Ambrosia, and some others were together, but they weren't my first choice. I felt horrible having to consider it, but they really weren't that strong, and I needed to put survival before companionship. The other choices were Jerrimiah's alliance and Toshiba's. Either one looked okay. It unsettled me how it was more or less a toss-up which one I'd end up joining. It would very likely determine if I lived or died, and I had no idea which choice was which.

It was Toshiba I approached first. I'd heard him talking about an "anti-Career" alliance, which had turned me off at first. I hated the Careers as much as anyone else, but I didn't want to take them on. But it seemed Toshiba meant more that his alliance was anti-Career as in it was the opposite of the Careers- defensive instead of offensive, and things like that.

"Hey," I said, catching Toshiba's attention.

"Yes? What do you want?" he asked, and I leaned back away from him. I hadn't expected him to be so short with me. He was almost glaring at me, like I was wasting his time.

"I'm interested in your alliance," I said, though I wasn't sure I was anymore, if he was going to be like that.

"Why should we let you in?" he asked.

 _Fine, forget it,_ I thought, but I stopped myself. I had to be honest with myself. My biggest misgiving about an alliance was that I made friends very easily, and I made friends _hard._ I'd have a hard time leaving allies behind or even not attacking someone who attacked them, and that wasn't the way to win. Allying with someone so hard to befriend might be the best thing for me. And it was good Toshiba was so selective. It meant a stronger alliance.

"I have survival skills I can demonstrate if you need," I said, gearing up the old political spiel. "In Six, I was on the student council. I know that sounds useless, but one of our highest priorities was convincing the school officials to give us funds. I can get us sponsors. I've also trained in taekwondo since I was five. Interested?"

Toshiba raised an eyebrow. "All right, I guess that's good enough. So far it's you, me, and Delaney."

"I saw she was working with the crossbows and you were making traps. That's why I was interested," I said. This was a two-way street, and I wanted to make that clear. I wasn't the only one who had to meet standards. They wanted to know if I was worth their time, and I'd already checked to see they were worth mine. I didn't like being hard, but Toshiba had to know I could give as good as I got.

* * *

Toshiba Boltwire- District Three male

I tossed another weight over the side of the Games building, watching its trajectory. Instead of stopping, hovering, and returning, it curved without slowing and accelerated as it came back up. That indicated a magnetic field instead of a pure force field. It was more complicated than that, since it also returned things with no metal in them, but I only needed to know the basic type of field. That determined whether the return trajectory was linear or parabolic, and that determined how I would aim any projectiles I intended to bounce off it.

The Capitol made the force field as an ultimate show of control, telling us that we couldn't even choose our own deaths. It was admirable in its sheer audacity and effectiveness, and I felt guilty using it for my own ends. I was always told to respect authority and my elders, and here I was perverting Capitol tech. But survival was the priority, and all's fair in war.

Based on the rubber ball I'd chucked and hit myself with, the speed of thrown items stayed more or less constant. That backed up the hypothesis I'd formed from two years ago, when the Two girl killed herself with the axe she'd thrown at Haymitch. Of course I'd have to check in the Arena before I tried anything, since I suspected they would have altered the fields. They were pretty mad that he used their forcefield against him, even if it seemed to be mostly accidental. He tried to make it look like that, anyway, but no one believed him.

It occurred to me that I might be overspecializing, spending so much time studying one potential weapon. But I'd done other things as well. I made some traps and worked a little on tracking. And I had my prior knowledge in electronics, and then there were my allies. Delaney was our fighter, with her surprising aptitude for the crossbow. Carmelle would provide survival essentials and really prove her worth if she got as many sponsors as she promised.

I hadn't told my allies the real purpose of my alliance. The goal was to oppose the Careers, as suicidal as that sounded. I wanted to show them they weren't any better than the rest of us, and make a statement to anyone who would stand against us. If Carmelle could get someone to send us a crossbow and Delaney could use it, we could pick them off from afar. And if I could get just a few supplies, I could blow them away just like Sky all those years ago. It wasn't some petty grudge match. They were huge and immediate threats to our lives. We _would_ face them, whether or not we wanted to. The best defense is a good offense.


	21. Leather

**LOL textiles + livestock = leather**

* * *

Jerrimiah Cottle- District Ten male

Delaney and I hardly saw each other throughout the day, only crossing paths when our mentors wanted to teach a class together or something. It was late at night when we both washed up in the Ten lounge, me walking in the door to see her half-heartedly watching some Capitol soap opera.

"Mind if I join in?" I asked, taking a seat on another couch.

"By all means. Tsarmina is about to tell Davenport the baby isn't his, so you came at the right time," she said.

"I've hardly seen you since we got here," I said during a commercial break.

"We've been busy, I guess," she said.

"I guess it's kind of weird we're both in alliances but not with each other," I said, a little guiltily. "Are you mad I didn't ask?"

She shrugged. "It just kind of ended up that way. I wanted to get an alliance nailed down quickly, so I went to one and they took me."

"I didn't care too much, either. Bambi would be mad if he knew how casually I was taking this," I said. "Hey, is it true you're engaged?"

"Wow, subject change," Delaney said. "And yeah, I was supposed to marry this old guy my mom picked."

"Like how old?" I asked, hoping it was less creepy than it sounded.

"Thirty something," she said.

That was not less creepy. That was _way creepier._ "What the _crap?_ Your mom is a _nutcase!"_ I said, sitting up sharply. "...no offense," I added, definitely too late.

"It's just the way we do things," she said, shrugging again. "It's for security and harmony and who am I kidding it's totally idiotic."

"Are you going to do it?" I asked.

"I was planning to, but I guess it doesn't matter now. If die, that solves that problem. And if I win, I think I'll move somewhere far away. The Victor's Village, of course, but maybe I'll see if they let me move farther."

"Definitely. Move to One or something. Somewhere _normal,"_ I said. At the same time, we realized I'd called One "normal", and both of us started laughing.

* * *

Chenille Webber- District Eight female

I couldn't believe I actually had allies. It happened so easily, too. Jerrimiah was asking Weaver if he wanted to ally. After he agreed, they noticed I was watching wistfully. Like he'd planned it all along, Jerrimiah asked if I was looking for allies, too. I calmly joined the alliance, "calmly" meaning that I screamed "YES!" and tackle-hugged Jerrimiah.

I was still all bubbly with happiness as I practiced braiding ropes. I'd tried knife throwing and some other stuff, but I wasn't super good at anything. With ropes, I didn't have to be _super_ good. I just had to be good enough to twist some grass into a cord that could tie some stuff together or string a bow. It was very nice of Jerrimiah and Weaver to take me in, and I wanted to be an asset. My ropes could help build us a shelter or catch food. We could even make a fire bow.

"Like this?" I asked the attendant. The rope-making station was rarely occupied, and the attendant was happy to have someone who actually cared and took it seriously.

"Three braided braids if you want extra strength," the attendant said as he demonstrated. "And to join two ropes together, you splice. It's like this."

Making a large rope would take forever with the thin grass I was using. Luckily, ropes were way stronger than they looked, and even a thin one could make a snare or hold branches onto a shelter. Before the day was over, I had three little ropes of my very own. The attendant showed me how to seal the ends with knots and I was done.

"What did you all practice?" I asked Weaver and Jerrimiah as we walked down the hall.

"We tried out the spears," Jerrimiah said. "How about you?"

"I made us these," I said, beaming as I held up three little loops of cord. "They're friendship bracelets."

"Ooooh, I love it," Jerrimiah said, slipping his hand into one of the bracelets. It hung loosely off of him, since I hadn't known how big to make it. Weaver took the other one and they compared. I put on mine and we held our hands together, like cheerleaders circling up before a routine.

"You better wear this at your coronation," Jerrimiah said.

I laughed, scrunching my eyes up so it looked like a real laugh and he wouldn't know how sad I was inside. He'd meant the best, but it wasn't going to be like that. I'd had no chance in the Games before I allied, and I still really didn't now. That was why I learned how to make the ropes. Jerrimiah and Weaver would have those bracelets long after I was gone. My ropes would outlive me, and I would still be useful after I died. I hoped when Jerrimiah caught the last remaining Tribute in a trap or Weaver fired the final arrow, they would be using my cord, and they would think of me.

* * *

Weaver Twill- District Eight male

 _Dear Thatcher,_

 _I suppose this will be the last time I speak to you. Please don't get your hopes up. Of course I'll try my best, but what can I do? I'm not good at anything. But it's okay. I'm not sad. It's worth it, a million times over. And don't feel guilty. You couldn't have stopped me. You can't volunteer if you already got Reaped. There was nothing in the world you could have done, and it's okay. I wanted this. And also don't feel like you have to "live up" to me volunteering. You don't have to become "worth it" because you already are._

 _Wow, that's all really heavy. I know it's important, but how about a break? The Capitol is really nice. I never thought Death Row would come with gourmet food and silk pajamas and a huge marble jacuzzi. There are lots of books here, too, which is even better. I have a whole stack of them right next to me, and that's why I didn't write earlier. Sorry about that!_

 _It's been three days, and already I made some allies. There's Jerrimiah. He's from Ten, where they all ride cows and eat nothing but meat. He's really tough, and he might win. He's real friendly, too. You just feel like you don't have to put on airs when he's around. He doesn't feed you any bull and doesn't expect any back. Be sure to watch his interview, because he has a really funny accent. They really do talk like that._

 _My other ally is Chenille. I wish she wasn't here. She should be back in Eight, working on her homework or playing with her friends. She's a good, sweet girl. But here I am talking like she's so much younger than me. I'm only two years older. I guess it just seems like it since she's had a nicer life. I'm glad for that. Children_ should _seem younger than they are._

 _I guess it's not true that I'm not good at_ anything. _I've been trying to learn archery, and I'm not too bad at it. It's kind of fun, and I like that I can hit the target. Jerrimiah says I'm 'slicker than a hog in Oleo', whatever that means. Chenille is good at making ropes, so I guess that works right out!_

 _My mentor sure doesn't think that way, though. I'm pretty sure Tillo thinks I'm as dumb as a bag of hammers. But then, Tillo thinks_ everyone _is as dumb as a bag of hammers. How do I know this? Because she told me. Drone is more supportive, when he's not busy drinking._

 _Okay, this is really depressing, but I guess I should say it. If I die, you can have any of my stuff you want. Yes, even my tiger-eye agate. Whatever you don't want you can give to the rest of the kids, and make sure Twine gets any of my books he wants. You probably don't have much say in this, but tell Miss Minchin not to waste money on a fancy funeral. Just stick me in the ground and move on._

 _Wow, this is a really long letter. I should have used the dictator, but I wanted that handmade feel. Anyway, I wish you were here. Not as a Tribute, duh, but like as a guest or something. I'm not going to say 'see you soon', because… well, I'm just going to say I love you. Try not to get all up in a twist, okay? You've been through way worse already. You'll be okay._

 _Love,_

 _Weaver_

 _P.S. Give this to Twine, okay?_

 _Dear Twine,_

 _We both know I'm not coming back. Thatcher is your brother from now on. I know that's so much to ask, but I only ask because I know you'll do it. He's fragile, obviously. He's also strong, and he doesn't need much. Just be a dependable presence as he mourns me, and just be there. He'll figure out the rest himself._

 _Second to the right and straight on til morning,_

 _Weaver_


	22. Ravens

Study Furado- District Five female

" _There's too much tendency to attribute to God the evils that man does of his own free will."- Agatha Christie_

Most Tributes probably never even discovered there was a psychological warfare classroom. It wasn't in the training room, at least not past a flyer tacked to an old corkboard on one of the walls. I'd seen the yellowed sheet of paper, so out of place in such a modern building, and immediately investigated. So I'd ended up in an empty classroom with an eggheaded-looking teacher who'd looked bored to tears and had excitedly sat up when I showed.

"How do you use psychological warfare on your enemies if they'll probably attack you as soon as they see you?" I asked after I took a desk and the teacher made some introductory remarks.

"These techniques apply more to allies," she said. "They're to manipulate those close to you and better utilize them as tools."

 _Wow, sounds kind of bad when you put it that way,_ I thought, but I didn't leave. Part of me told myself I could still use them a little against Careers and the like. The part of me I didn't want to acknowledge was afraid of what she would say next, since I knew I already did it to Wit.

The lessons went normally for a while, going over things like how to spot a lie and conversely how to lie without being spotted. I didn't need that. I lied plenty, both to my mom about things she was mad about, and to my teachers that I'd fallen out of a tree or just really liked long-sleeved shirts. It struck me how funny it was that the teacher seemed to have no suspicions about that stuff, even though I was sure any good psychologist saw it dripping off me.

"There are four types of reinforcement," the teacher started. "Regular positive, irregular positive, regular negative, and irregular negative. People think irregular positive is the most powerful, but it's irregular negative."

"Is that what it sounds like?" I asked.

"It's when the subject is irregularly exposed to harsh punishment so that she never knows when to expect it. It instills great fear, loss of control, and a perverse devotion to the abuser in the mistaken conviction that the abuse is deserved and the hope that the subject can stop it by 'being a better friend," she said, changing her tone at the last four words to indicate the incorrect point of view.

 _I didn't even need to take this class,_ I thought. I'd been on the receiving end of that, and I'd reacted by doing the same thing. I thought of Wit, cringing back when I suddenly exploded at him for some stupid thing I knew was stupid even when I was yelling. And how he clung to me, so sure that I was smart and devoted and patient with him. I'd come into this class and condemned it for the abuse and manipulation, but I was the one that came here willingly. I could just as well have been the teacher.

* * *

Wit Castiglione- District Five male

Study was being weird again. She said she wanted to train apart for a while and then asked Aurelia if she could teach her etiquette and how to be "nice". I didn't think you could really call anyone nice who willingly participated in the Games and made money off it, but it was entirely possible Aurelia really didn't grasp what the Games were like from a District standpoint.

"What do you want to study today?" Sky asked.

"I don't really know," I said. "Usually Study says."

"You just going to follow her all your life? Because if you plan to live, you're going to have to live without her sometime," Sky said.

"I never really thought that far. It doesn't seem like I can go on past Study. She's smarter than me and better at everything," I said.

"How do you know that?" Sky asked.

"She told me," I said, and Sky's expression made me think things I'd never considered before.

"She's not a very good friend," Sky said.

"That's not true! Sometimes she's really nice," I said, crossing my arms.

"Being nice is the base minimum for being a friend. 'Sometimes' she's nice? Great job," Sky said.

"She stays with me even though I mess everything up," I said, but I was unsettled.

"Have you ever considered maybe you're not messing everything up?" Sky asked.

"But why would she say I was?" I asked.

"Because she knows you'll leave her if you ever get confidence," Sky said.

It was like a stab in the back. Sky came cutting in, exposing all the pain from the person I trusted the most. I saw everything Study ever did in through a new, clear lense, and all my idealism and optimism in her suffered. It didn't crumble, but once something is damaged even a little, it never goes back to what it was.

"I want to… learn swords," I blurted, looking up at Sky with desperation. I hadn't even thought about swords before. I just wanted to make a move all my own, any move, so long as it wasn't what Study told me to do. And I wanted to make it fast, before I started crying in front of my mentor.

"Good. Learn a lot," Sky said tactfully.

I did not learn a lot. I spent the day flailing aimlessly, knowing I was doing it wrong and wishing Study was there to tell me how I was messing up. That night, I lay awake, unsure what I'd gained from any of it. Not sword skills, to be sure. A little independence, maybe. It was scary, and it was even scarier that I wanted more.


	23. Sam's Angels

Shelby Mayd- District Twelve female

We wouldn't always be in a Capitol kitchen stirring a pan of sizzling oil and whatever vegetables looked good together, but I could pretend we would be. I knew the Arena loomed in the future, uncertain at best and terrifying if I let myself really think about it, but that wasn't now. Now was me and Ambrosia learning to cook.

" _Garlic!"_ Ambrosia decreed, shaking powder vigorously from a bottle.

"Fancy pink salt!" I responded, using the fancy cranking bottle.

"That will certainly be… vibrant," the nearest cook commented.

It was natural that me and Ambrosia would fall in together. We were both young and both outliers. I made friends easily, but Ambrosia was kind of… awkward. But that was okay, because I could see she wanted to be friends and I didn't mind awkward. And beggars can't be choosers, even if I didn't like her. There weren't many people our age. I was glad for that, but I was also glad I made a friend.

Cooking was my idea. It seemed silly, but nutrition was important. There were lots of foods you either couldn't eat unless they were cooked, or else they were more nutritious if you did. Like manioc root, I'd learned, or acorns, which I already knew. Cooking would provide food, and it would also boost our morale. Positive mental attitude was a big part of survival, Aurelius the survival station attendant had told me. That part I had in spades.

"The four main elements of cooking are salt, fat, acid, and heat," Chef Bell told us. "If your food doesn't taste right, it's one of those. If it seems flat, it's salt or acid. If it seems too thin, it's fat or heat."

"I don't know if we'll have salt in the Arena, but we can probably find acid somewhere," I said.

"I hope there are oranges," Ambrosia said as she chopped another onion.

"In the Arena, you'll most likely be eating wild game. The most important thing to know is to make sure any birds are cooked _all the way through._ Venison is okay pink, but if you kill a boar, cook it until it's very well done. You _don't_ want trichinosis," Chef Bell said.

"You know a lot about germs and stuff," I said.

"We're not _all_ dumb," he said. _Busted!_ I thought sheepishly.

"When the others smell this, they'll all want to ally with us," Ambrosia said when we were done.

I smelled our creation. "Unless they're vampires," I said.

* * *

Sam Wilson- District Twelve male

Any mentor but Nubu would have told me allying with Shelby and Ambrosia was a waste of my time. It certainly didn't seem practical from any standpoint, and I wasn't quite sure why I'd done it. Maybe it was old-fashioned compassion and protectiveness, some desire to rise above the Capitol and be the better man. I could have said it was for sponsors, and I _did_ suspect their cute faces would get more than my work-lined one, but that wasn't it. The most likely reason had nothing to do with winning, but whether I'd be able to look into a mirror if I did.

"Can you teach me manners?" I asked Nubu. His expression did not give me confidence.

"I don't really… _know_ manners," he admitted.

"Did I hear 'manners'?" Demi said from across the room. "Young man, you have come to the right woman."

"No, that's a _fish_ fork. That one is the salad fork."

I resisted the urge to throw the three-pronged fork across the room. The Capitol had more forks than people in Twelve had _food._ What did it _matter_ if the fork was for lettuce or salmon? It's a _fork!_ It stabs things! And the stupid little piece of metal looked so comically tiny and fragile in my coal-miner hands. I could have bent it to a chopstick if I'd made a fist.

"When drinking tea, you don't actually crook your finger," Demi instructed later. "It is improper for anyone to pour their own tea, so be sure to take initiative in assisting others. Sugar is added first, then cream."

I held the pot carefully as I tilted it, my wrist straining with the weight. It hardly seemed worth it for hot leaf water.

"A tie is tied like this," Demi said, demonstrating on the ever-willing Nubu. "Generally it is a man who passes this knowledge, but Nubu was… unprepared."

After a day with Demi, I appreciated the role of an escort more. Everything she knew was utter flimflam, but it was what the Capitol valued, and the Capitol decided everything. It would be wise for more Tributes to seek their escorts out.

That night, I put it all into action. Dressed in the suit Demi picked out for me, I prowled the halls, looking for Capitoles to wow with my flawless decorum and style. A group of young women noticed me, realized I was a Tribute, and started to whisper.

"Good evening, ladies," I said. "Mind if I walk with you?" I offered my arm to the one who was noticeably a bit older, as etiquette demanded. Her eyes smiled at me as she took it, peeking gleefully at her companions.

"Such a gentleman," she said. And it was true. I was a perfect gentleman. So long as sponsors were a possibility.

* * *

Merry Cypress- District Seven female

Most of the people in the training center were fighting with weapons or at one or another of the mundane but critical survival stations. Shelby and Ambrosia, however, appeared to be throwing rocks at a dummy.

"Hey, what are you two up to?" I asked, standing next to them.

"Throwing rocks," Shelby said.

"Oh. That's what I thought," I said. "Why rocks?"

"Because wherever the Arena it, it will probably have rocks," Shelby said. Beside her, Ambrosia tapped her finger to her temple in a supportive gesture.

"Well, you're not wrong," I said. _Monkey see, monkey do…_ I picked up a rock and chucked it at the dummy. It hit him in the stomach.

"You two allies?" I asked.

"Yeah, we're friends," Ambrosia said.

"You want another friend?" I asked.

Shelby narrowed her eyes. "Are you cool?" she asked.

"I think so," I said.

"What makes you cool?" Shelby asked.

"I play in a band," I offered.

"That _is_ pretty cool," Shelby said. She huddled up with Ambrosia and they whispered back and forth, pretending they were discussing strategy and not audibly saying 'Let's pretend we're discussing strategy' and 'I like her'.

"Okay, you're cool enough," Shelby said when they had finished deliberating.

"Is it true that in Seven you eat only plants and you live all your lives in trees?" Ambrosia asked a few minutes later, when we were tired of throwing stones.

"No, that's squirrels," I said.

"Well if I had known _that,"_ Ambrosia teased.

"What have you been practicing, anyway?" Shelby asked.

"Archery," I said, and I walked to the archery station. "Check _this_ out," I crowed, and I fired an arrow. It thudded straight into the bullseye.

"Woah!" Ambrosia said.

"Awesome!" Shelby said.

I just stared at the target in perplexed shock. _I've never done that in my life._

* * *

Ambrosia Smith- District Eleven female

Shelby was my best good friend and I was so glad I met her. It was also nice that Sam allied with us. I also liked Merry, but I wasn't as used to her yet. New people were always confusing, and I felt on edge until I'd been with them long enough to know their faces and voice tones. Different people used the same expressions and voices for different things, causing me no end of confusion.

We'd definitely get to know each other at the sleepover. It wasn't the same as back home, when a friend brought over a few blankets and we made a huddle on the floor. Not that I'd know, since I'd never had one, but I'd seen my big sister Tansy and her friends congregating in her room- "room" meaning her half of our room, which was divided by a blanket thrown over a string.

Not to brag, but our sleepover was _way_ better. Snapdragon had been so excited to show us how they did sleepovers in the Capitol. It involved pizza delivered to our door, popcorn, lots of soda, pillows everywhere, and silly games. After all the silly stories boys told about girls having pillow fights, we actually did have an actual pillow fight. Pillows are harder than I thought.

"Have you guys ever had a _crush?"_ Merry asked, peeping over the top of her sleeping bag. Of course in the Capitol, sleeping bags were more like miniature air mattresses with an attached blanket.

"There was this boy in fifth grade," Shelby said. "He had shaggy brown hair."

"Ew, boys have cooties," I contributed.

"Well, details," Shelby said, waiting for Merry's tale.

"I have a boy back home, sort of. He's in my band. We never dates or anything, but I think he sort of liked me. In the Justice Hall, he kissed me," Merry said, and she buried her face in her blanket.

"You have a _boyfriend!"_ Shelby and I squealed almost in unison.

Small talk gave way to deep discussions about the Games, and the accompanying swap of last requests, and then the mood lightened again when a silly face-making contest broke out. Then, when we were in the middle of a game Snapdragon called Twister, the doorbell rang. We opened it and found Sam.

"You all having a good time?" he asked.

"Yeah," Shelby said. "Why, what's up?"

"I just heard you. Through the ceiling. Downstairs," he said.

"Wow, guess we're having a lot of fun," I said.

"It's no problem, I was just wondering what you were up to," Sam said, poking his head in.

"Sleepover stuff," Shelby said.

"Boys wouldn't understand," Merry said.

"What, boys can't have sleepovers?" Sam asked, looking a little put out. Like he had ever been anywhere near a sleepover.

Shelby was about to say something, but she noticed the veiled curiosity and question behind Sam's visit. We girls glanced back and forth at each other.

"I guess sometimes they do," Merry said.

* * *

 **Three ladies and one guy. Obviously, Charlie's Angels. Honestly, they keep trying to reboot that and it just needs ONE THING to bring it from embarrassing sexist wish-fulfillment to a fun, fresh show. JUST MAKE CHARLIE A WOMAN, PEOPLE. It's not hard. It's SO OBVIOUS**


	24. Errbody Else

**I got antsy and just wrote them all.**

 **Trigger warning: Disordered eating in Chastity's POV**

* * *

Iosefka Crow- District Three female

When I got Reaped, all I could think about was that I was almost certainly going to die and that I was determined to at least place highly, although preferably I would win. Not that I thought winning was very likely, but I couldn't help wanting to see how many people I could outlast.

After I got to the Capitol, though, an entirely different thought occurred to me. For the past few years, there had been a rumor. It wasn't very well-circulated- mostly only medical students passed it around. It had never been much more than a pipe dream, but now I had the chance to see if there was any truth to it.

The young man at the first aid station certainly looked to be about the right age. There wasn't much distinguishing about him. He had brown hair and the faintest stubble. He smiled a lot and was weirdly polite and quiet for a Capitolite. He talked a normal amount, but not in the loud, endlessly noticeable way of a Capitolite. The rumors were from before I was very aware of the Games, so it was hard to compare to my vague memories.

"Are you really Lyte Anderson?" I asked the man, who looked up from sorting bandages.

"Last I checked," he said. Despite his flippance, he obviously knew why I was asking, and he didn't go back to sorting.

"Then it's true," I said. One of us really did make it big. Even though Lyte wasn't from Three, any Districter making it to the Capitol was the stuff of… urban legends.

"They kept it pretty quiet, but it's never perfect," Lyte said. "They didn't even make me change my name. After all the fuss from the Capitol, they went on to the next cute kid. Which I'm happy for, since I can be a doctor instead of signing autographs and stuff."

"Wasn't it a big deal when you were in med school and you were thirteen?" I asked.

"They gave me a private tutor," Lyte said.

"What about the cadaver stuff?" I asked. Most of that was virtual nowadays, but it was still conventional to have one authentic cadaver to expose students to mortality.

"I wish I didn't know so much about pediatric trauma," Lyte said, and his face went dark. I guess some Tributes didn't have anyone to claim the body.

"Do you ever see people from the Districts in the Capitol?" I asked.

"It's less common even than what they tell us, but it does happen. Usually it's 'companions', to put it nicely, but I do know one other doctor. She's from Eleven. She specialized in pediatric burn surgery entirely because it was so narrow there was no one else they could use," Lyte said.

 _Then it's possible._ Nearly everyone in my classes dreamed of being picked for the handful of slots allocated to District students in the Capitol universities. Even for the few chosen ones, that didn't get them into the Capitol. They were sent back to the Districts to languish in the underfunded, unsupplied clinics. But some of us really made it. This wasn't all for nothing. The best of the best of us beat even the Capitol. Whoever that woman from Eleven was, I could be there with her.

* * *

Carter Wheelson- District Six male

My mentor was a piece of work. All he did was mumble incoherently, stare at nothing, smile stupidly at me, and wander around like he was blind.

"You're lucky the other one mentored you," I said to Lancia.

"Lena? She's a morphling too," she said. "I basically didn't have a mentor."

"Wait, morphling?" I asked.

"Yeah, isn't it obvious? Just look at them," Lancia said. I'd known morphling was a problem in Six, but I'd never really seen it myself. When I thought about it, Toby's ashy skin, sunken eyes, skinny frame, and general behavior _did_ mesh with those cheesy "don't do drugs, kids" tapes we all sat through in school.

"Oh. I guess," I said.

"I do what I can, but you can't help someone who won't help himself," Lancia said.

"That's so stupid!" I said. Lancia thought I was referring to her and while I didn't care about her feelings, I did want to get my actual point across. "Why would you throw your life away like that?"

"Some people think it's a sickness. It certainly seems some people are more prone to it than others. I think you're your own responsibility and it was their choice, but that doesn't mean it's okay to treat them like animals. They're still people," Lancia said.

"It's creepy. They act more like ghosts," I said.

The next time I saw Toby, he was fumbling with a needle, trying to stab himself in the arm. He was so out of it he couldn't even hold his hand still.

"Hey. Stop that. You're gonna kill yourself," I said. I wasn't about to waste my time helping a worthless junkie, but he was creeping me out. He wasn't even acting human.

"Hello. Good morning," Toby said emptily, smiling at me. He ran his hand up and down my arm like a cat, and I pulled away.

"That's weird," I told him.

Toby started waving his hand across his eyes. A sharp smell suddenly hit my nose.

"Oh my… did you just?" I asked. I looked down and saw Toby's pants were oddly puffy. I wanted to puke. He _had,_ and there was no stain because _he was wearing diapers._

"Oh, disgusting," I said, sneering as I backed away from him. A grown man was marinating in his own piss. It was so pathetic even I was affected. No way in _hell_ was I touching that, but I still had to do something.

"All right, big guy. Let's get you an Avox."

* * *

Loki Saberhagen- District Seven male

The Capitol had excellent steak. At least I thought it was, since I had never eaten steak before. The meat was as tender as butter, and it was red in the middle. It looked like a prey animal that had just barely been killed.

After a week of training, I was treating myself to some time off. But even that wasn't entirely recreational. Perhaps the most important skill of all in the Games was currying favor with the Capitol. Strength and speed didn't compare to weapons and supplies gained with no effort. As I ate, I observed those around me, and I learned invaluable things.

I listened to how they talked, what words they used and what speech patterns they favored. I memorized their jokes, ready to make them feel smart by repeating them. I watched their expressions and learned their tells for when they were fooled or convinced. I watched how they treated their children and learned their attitudes toward younger Tributes.

The couple at the table next to mine was discussing the Games. When I heard that, I disregarded the others and pricked up my ears.

"I do hope she does well," the man was saying. "We're all rooting hard for adorable little Shelby."

"We're getting up a collection for her," the other man said, referring perhaps to a social circle or book club, if he knew how to read.

 _Note to self: Don't kill Shelby unless necessary._ I hadn't been planning to hunt down non-threats anyway, but this was still important information. _If I ever see her in the Arena, smile and seem friendly. When I see her face in the sky, act like I'm heartbroken._

I'd seen things like that happen before. One Tribute or another helped someone or mourned them, and the dead Tribute's District sent things as thanks. A single bottle of water was the difference between life or death.

I lingered for dessert, since I wasn't the one paying the bill. I cracked my spoon against the burned sugar surface of the dish, like I'd seen another table do. The sugar crackled like glass and revealed white custard underneath. It was unlike anything we had back in Seven. Usually any dessert we scraped up was maple sugar candy or apple pie once a year. The food here was even more delicious than the company.

* * *

Chastity Burgess- District Nine female

In the Capitol, there was always a party somewhere. That was where I spent almost all my time outside training hours. Every day I called an Avox in and had her help me pick a dress and get ready. Sometimes I thought about bringing back treats for her, but the kinds of treats Capitol parties had were too fancy for Avoxes.

"Ooh, such an adorable dress! What a lovely young lady," A Capitolite with silver hair cooed.

I twisted my dress in my hands and turned away, pretending to be shy. They loved that, and it always made them pay even more attention to me.

"I'm just a little worried about the Games, though," I said. "There won't be nice food like there is here."

"Don't you worry. I'll send you some," the woman said.

"Every day?" I asked, making my eyes shine gratefully.

"Every day," the woman promised.

The very best part of all about Capitol parties was that I could eat anything I wanted. The first time, I'd hardly eaten anything. Unlike most people, _I_ had self-control and cared about myself. The second time, I'd been introduced to the best Capitol invention in history: the little glasses of pink liquid that made me throw up. I must have drunk half a dozen at the parties, and I usually brought one back home for later. As I took one off an Avox's platter, a voice interrupted me.

"You like those, kid?"

I didn't recognize the voice, but I knew Avariella Hanson as soon as I saw her. She was one of the more high-profile Victors, since she was beautiful and a Career. I nodded in response to her question.

"You don't need those to be pretty," Ava said.

"That's how _you_ look," I pointed out.

"Because they sucked all my fat cells out. You know I have to eat 3000 calories a day just to not _lose_ weight? If I ever got lost in the woods, I'd starve in two days," she said.

"But you're skinny," I said.

"These aren't my real teeth. They took those out because my vomit rotted them away," Ava said. A Capitolite woman tutted in disgust and moved away. "They didn't notice these," Ava continued, holding up her right hand to reveal the little scars that looked just like mine.

I held the glass up defiantly and tilted it back to drink. Ava's hard eyes bored into mine.

"You're going to kill yourself before the Capitol has a chance," she said.

"If you want to let yourself go, that's fine," I said. "But some of us have standards." I drank the liquid in one gulp and ran for the bathroom.

* * *

Declan Malone- District Ten male

I felt the Capitolite eyes on me as I trained with a scythe. They weren't allowed in the training room, but I knew a lot of them were keeping tabs on me. My story had gotten out right away, and they were _eating it up._ It seemed like everyone was fussing over the loving father separated from his devastated boy. I had declarations of support and dozens of promises of sponsorship, which I supposed Bambi was juggling. Along with my size and strength, it was getting to where I thought I could win it all.

I didn't want to get cocky, though. My size and popularity also made me a huge target. The Careers, almost certainly multiple of them, were certainly planning to come for me at the Bloodbath. If just one of them ran faster than me and slowed me down enough for the others to catch up, it would be over.

The fabric arm of the dummy split open, exposing ragged edges and welling stuffing. I knew how important it was to be able to hurt someone, but I never wanted to do it in real life. I wasn't the person I used to be. When I ran with my old gang, sometimes fights broke out, or maybe we roughed up someone who clung a little to zealously to a wallet. Violence was part of the game, and we lived so hard because we all knew we'd die young. I needed to live a long time now, and I had to think of people other than myself.

Alliances were forming all around me. It would have been prudent for me to join one. Maybe a dozen times I started, then held myself back. An alliance was a promise, a promise to consider someone as important as yourself and throw in your lot together until the end. It would have benefited me greatly, but some deeply-held moral pulled me back.

"Hey. You're Declan, right?" Merry asked. I hadn't even noticed her come up, which didn't bode well for the Games.

"Yes," I said, too startled to say anything more.

"Are you looking for allies? Me and Shelby and Ambrosia are together. We have Sam, too, so we're not all little." She pointed out Sam, who was indeed visibly muscular.

"Oh," I started, and I went through the whole dilemma again. Not ten seconds later, I had my answer.

"No, thanks. I think I'm going it alone," I said.

Her face fell just a little. "Okay. Good luck!" she said, and she turned and almost skipped away.

She hadn't asked the reason, and I was glad. Whether or not joining her alliance would have been a net gain, I couldn't have done it. I couldn't have, because when I looked at her, at her pretty young smiling face, I saw the future. If we were the last two, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I would cut her up to see my boy again.

* * *

Aedrick Laquois- District Eleven male

My mentor Mars was a giant. He was almost seven feet tall and built like a barrel. He had a voice like a rumbling truck, though he didn't speak often. He wasn't aloof or bored. It just seemed like he was hesitant, just like me.

"You don't have to be scared of me," he said one night as we were eating dinner, Snapdragon trying to teach us etiquette.

"I didn't mean to be scared," I said, feeling both apologetic and even more scared than before.

"No one means to be scared. But a lot of people are of me," he said.

The room seemed much larger and more exposed than it had a minute ago. I wished Snapdragon hadn't left to fix her makeup. I didn't like how quiet the room seemed, like time would stand still and the moment would linger until I said something.

"I've always been big. I'm not mean, though. Usually it's only little kids that can see that. But someone put fear in you," Mars said, like he was looking right into my past. For the first time, I saw him as someone I could talk to, not just another alien, threatening adult.

"How did you know?" I asked.

"I see it a lot," he said. "Not me, though. I had a good life before the Games."

It was funny how tiny the fork was in his hand, and how he barely fit into the chair. He seemed too big for just the whole world, and it was endearing instead of scary.

"Did you think you were going to win the Games?" I asked.

"I didn't think I would ever be anything," Mars said. "I could carry things and push things, but that was all. Even when they told me I was the Victor, I still didn't think I'd ever be anything. People call me a Victor and I just feel like me."

I didn't understand it. Mars was as strong as a bull, and as big as one. He won the entire Hunger Games, and he still didn't think he amounted to anything. Someone like me had a reason to think that, but not Mars.

"When I won the Games, I couldn't even read. I barely even know now," Mars said.

 _I can do something Mars can't?_ That made even less sense than Mars' self-esteem.

"I'm a real good reader," I said, feeling like the champion of the world. Right away I realized it sounded like I was ragging on him, so I went on hurriedly. "I just mean, it comes easy to me. Maybe we can read together some and I'll help you."

 _Oh my goodness, that is so condescending._ A little kid telling a grown man he'll help him read? What was I thinking?

"I'd like that," Mars said, and his teeth were shiny in his big smile. And I remembered that I didn't have to worry about Mars thinking I thought I was better than he was, because he already thought I was.


	25. Private Session Reports

CONFIDENTIAL

PRIVATE SESSIONS REPORT

THEODORA HARP AND HARLEQUIN MARCEAU

* * *

DISTRICT ONE MALE: LYON CARTIER

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: LANCE, MARTIAL ARTS

Lyon began his session with a lance and spent the majority of his time demonstrating Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, adding in brass knuckles. He displayed restraint and precision in his movements, as well as the expected expertise.

STRENGTHS: Levelheaded, companionable, Career skills

WEAKNESSES: Lack of ferocity, hesitation

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Lyon is unusually stable for a Career.

ODDS: 11:1

SCORE: 9

NOTE: Ooh, the Careers are actually good this year.

* * *

DISTRICT ONE FEMALE: DIAMONIQUE GEMMIN

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: KNIFE-THROWING, CAMOUFLAGE

Diamonique made a token effort with throwing knives before focusing on her true passion of camouflage. She painted her own face using nothing but the surface of the pool as a mirror, completing a well-executed leaf pattern.

STRENGTHS: Does not overestimate herself, unexpected skills

WEAKNESSES: Much less-prepared than most Careers, younger than most Careers

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 17:1

SCORE: 8

NOTES: Diamonique was not the chosen volunteer. Though she had received training at the Academy, it was intermittent and she showed average promise.

* * *

DISTRICT TWO MALE: KODIAK ALWARD

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: ARCHERY, CUTLASS

Kodiak displayed the expected ability with both of his weapons, but he seemed hesitant during his session, as though troubled by something.

STRENGTHS: Career family, weapons, healthy respect for opponents

WEAKNESSES: Prone to nervousness

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Kodiak suffers from PTSD caused by the death of his sister in the Games. He also has mysophobia, which seems mild enough not to hinder him.

ODDS: 15:1

SCORE: 10

NOTES: Hey, that's the same score I gave your sister.

* * *

DISTRICT TWO FEMALE: JAYDALIN ELLIOTS

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: KNIFE-THROWING, SPEARS, ROPES, HERBAL MEDICINE

Jaydalin refused to limit herself, demonstrating four skills. She was equally capable with knives and spears and was very swift on the ropes course. She did not have much time left mor medicine, but correctly listed four medicinal plants.

STRENGTHS: Weapons, well-rounded, valuable skill in herbs

WEAKNESSES: Jaydalin did not strike us as a quiet or stealthy Career

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 16:1

SCORE: 9

NOTES: Like a jack of all trades, but better than just a jack. There should be a word for that.

* * *

DISTRICT THREE MALE: TOSHIBA BOLTWIRE

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: TRAPS, ELECTRONICS, PLANTS

Toshiba did average on everything he tried. He correctly assembled a snare. He moved on to constructing a dynamo, but realized he didn't have enough time and moved on to plants, showing enough skill to feed himself in a verdant Arena.

STRENGTHS: Allies, survival skills

WEAKNESSES: Size, fighting. Toshiba bears a grudge against the Careers, which will not end well for him.

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 24:1

SCORE: 5

NOTES: Congratulations on being the most mundane Tribute.

* * *

DISTRICT THREE FEMALE: IOSEFKA CROW

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: POISON DARTS

Iosefka described the biological components of the poison she constructed from household chemicals (something about acetylcholine and lockjaw or something?), then coated a dart in it and threw it at a dummy. The darts were heavy enough to penetrate skin without needing a blowgun.

STRENGTHS: Poison darts, medical training, intelligence

WEAKNESSES: Perhaps overconfident, competitive

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 22:1

SCORE: 6

NOTES: Congratulations on being the Tribute with the weirdest name.

* * *

DISTRICT FOUR MALE: HAVELOCK GRIMM

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: SWIMMING, CLIMBING, HAND-TO-HAND

Havelock has the skill but not the nearly mindless ferocity of his brother. He has a more controlled fighting style, but what struck us all the most was his determination. He is more self-controlled precisely because of his steely determination to win, which he knows will be more likely with a clear head.

STRENGTHS: Sexiest lock I ever saw

WEAKNESSES: Though he still has a huge amount of support from fans of both him and his brother, some have fallen away because of his newly incurred scar.

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Havelock's morale has been lessened by the scar incurred by a crazed Kodiak fan.

ODDS: 11:1

SCORE: 9

NOTES: Cut off one head, another appears in its place.

* * *

DISTRICT FOUR FEMALE: SIREN KAECKO

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: SPEARFISHING

Siren caught our eye by spearfishing a training partner. She had the poor man strip to his boxers and get into the pool. There she narrated as she demonstrated how a shark is stalked and speared, demonstrating her breath-holding ability and swimming. She mimed the deadly blow and reminded us that sharks are much more dangerous than training partners.

STRENGTHS: Innovation, creativity, fishing and fighting

WEAKNESSES: Short-tempered

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Healthy claustrophobia and pyrophobia

ODDS: 10:1

SCORE: 9

NOTES: The Four girls always seem so vivacious when they're stalking people.

* * *

DISTRICT FIVE MALE: WIT CASTIGLIONE

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: PIPE AND CANDLESTICK

Apparently Study and Wit had some kind of theme going, because Wit got the ball rolling with a pipe and a _candlestick._ I must suggest that next year, we make the Arena a giant Clue board. Anyway, he swung them around for maybe half a minute before suffering what appeared to be a panic attack and recovering barely in time to show a handful of plants.

STRENGTHS: Would do… well, still wouldn't do very well in a Clue Arena.

WEAKNESSES: Pipes, candlesticks, panic attacks

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:Our psychologist declined to diagnose after so little observation time, but suspects Avoidant Personality Disorder.

ODDS: 40:1

SCORE: 4

NOTES: Wow, tough break.

* * *

DISTRICT FIVE FEMALE: STUDY FURADO

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: PSYCHOLOGICAL WARFARE, CANDLESTICK

Study was far more aggressive than Wit, actually wreaking havoc with her candlestick. Then she switched into a description of what she'd learned about psychological warfare. In the final minutes, she segued into how she approved of the Games but had been shifting her opinion since she was Reaped. She seemed to be seeking connection with us.

STRENGTHS: Psychological warfare, charisma, unpredictable, aggressive

WEAKNESSES: Prone to wild mood swings, often irrational, obsessive.

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Massive mental damage from lifelong abuse. Psychologist suspects comorbid Borderline and Histrionic Personality Disorder.

ODDS: 35:1

SCORE: 6

NOTES: I'd like to mention that the psychologist diagnosed Study as a piece of work.

* * *

DISTRICT SIX MALE: CARTER WHEELSON

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: KNIFE FIGHTING

Carter kept up for a while but lost the fight. As the sparring partner was leaving and the session was completed, Carter threw his knife and hit the man in the abdomen, drawing blood.

STRENGTHS: Ruthless, aggressive

WEAKNESSES: Strategy, fighting, intelligence, personality, everything else.

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: No conditions, he's just a jerk

ODDS: 45:1

SCORE: 7

NOTES: They made me give him a 7 because he fights dirty.

* * *

DISTRICT SIX FEMALE: CARMELLE WHEELER

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: SPARRING, EDIBLE PLANTS

Carmelle showed no particular inspiration in her sparring. Her knowledge of plants was similarly lackluster.

STRENGTHS: Won't starve in verdant Arenas, allies

WEAKNESSES: Lack of any real skills

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 28:1

SCORE: 4

NOTES: I think Carmelle is better than she's showing at martial arts. She has an extensive background in Taekwondo.

* * *

DISTRICT SEVEN MALE: LOKI SABERHAGEN

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: DAGGERS AND STEALTH

Loki demonstrated his skills by requesting a sparring partner, then hiding among the obstacle course before the partner arrived. He was able to sneak up on her without being detected and stab her in the back.  
STRENGTHS: Stealth, cunning, knows his weaknesses and compensates

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing, just a bit weaselly

ODDS: 19:1

SCORE: 8

NOTES: Wow, that is creepily accurate that they named you that. There's some weird voodoo going down in the Saberhagen family.

* * *

DISTRICT SEVEN FEMALE: MERRY CYPRESS

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: TRAPS

Merry cheerfully demonstrated four different traps, from deadfalls to four-frames.

STRENGTHS: Attitude, optimism, allies, survival skills, not a target

WEAKNESSES: Small, young, weak

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 24:1

SCORE: 6

NOTES: No matter how many years it's been, there's always that one you don't want to see die.

* * *

DISTRICT EIGHT MALE: WEAVER TWILL

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: ARCHERY, THROWING KNIVES, FIREMAKING

Weaver had a natural ability for archery. Though his form was unconventional, he effectively hit the targets. He showed no aptitude for knives or fire and should have left those out.

STRENGTHS: Allies, archery, resilience

WEAKNESSES: Sacrificial, loyal, gentle

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Weaver has dealt with his rough life very well and shows maturity far beyond his age.

ODDS: 26:1

SCORE: 4

NOTES: Odds were lowered because it is very likely Weaver will die for an ally.

* * *

DISTRICT EIGHT FEMALE: CHENILLE WEBBER

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: KNIFE-THROWING, AGILITY

Chenille hit none of the targets and fell off the agility course multiple times. I am trying to think of something nice to say, and all I can think of is that she was very polite.

STRENGTHS: Definitely not a target.

WEAKNESSES: Everything

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: NOTHING

ODDS: 50:1

SCORE: 2

NOTES: Wow. I tried to sugarcoat it, but that was all I could do.

* * *

DISTRICT NINE MALE: DECLAN MALONE

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: SCYTHE

Declan efficiently destroyed several dummies, going for quick killing blows instead of drawn-out attacks. He was focused and unblinking in his attacks.

STRENGTHS: Physical strength, motivation, multiple sponsors

WEAKNESSES: Will hesitate to kill younger Tributes, target for Careers

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 16:1

SCORE: 8

NOTES: Dang, when I was your age I was going to parties and whispering about crushes. You have a _kid._ I _was_ a kid.

* * *

DISTRICT NINE FEMALE: CHASTITY BURGESS

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: FIREMAKING, KNOTS, EDIBLE PLANTS

Chastity made a fire, tied some knots, and ate some plants.

STRENGTHS: Not really a target. Not terrible at anything.

WEAKNESSES: Not _worth_ being a target. Not great at anything.

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Anorexia

ODDS: 48:1

SCORE: 4

NOTES: I'd feel bad you're going to die, but you're such a brat.

* * *

DISTRICT TEN MALE: JERRIMIAH COTTLE

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: AGILITY

Jerrimiah threw himself through the course with dexterity and confidence. This carried over to his general bearing, which was casual and self-confident.

STRENGTHS: Leadership, allies, self-esteem, risk-taking

WEAKNESSES: May underestimate Arena and Tributes

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 20:1

SCORE: 8

NOTES: You would have been such a grizzled cowboy if you'd grown up.

* * *

DISTRICT TEN FEMALE: DELANEY ROGERS-STONE

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: CROSSBOW

Delaney was average with the crossbow. Maybe a little better than most untrained users, but nothing special.

STRENGTHS: Okay defensive skills, allies

WEAKNESSES: Close-range fighting, friendly and loyal nature

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 24:1

SCORE: 5

NOTES: No, there's definitely something running in a family that marries kids when they're KIDS

* * *

DISTRICT ELEVEN MALE: AEDRICK LAQUOIS

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: SURVIVAL, KNIVES  
Aedrick took a modest approach, showing minor skills across all survival areas instead of attempting to wow us with any one. His knife skills were subpar.

STRENGTHS: Jack of all trades, easily overlooked by Careers

WEAKNESSES: Definitely would not win a fight

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 26:1

SCORE: 5

NOTES: Aww, you did better than you think. Don't be so down.

* * *

DISTRICT ELEVEN FEMALE: AMBROSIA SMITH

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: KNOWLEDGE, FIGHTING

Ambrosia recited animal and tracking knowledge while fighting a sparring partner. She lost, but displayed both creativity in her fighting and a wide array of knowledge.

STRENGTHS: Allies, optimism, sponsors

WEAKNESSES: Anything physical

ODDS: 24:1

SCORE: 5

NOTES: Why do I feel like you're my little sister?

* * *

DISTRICT TWELVE MALE: SAM WILSON

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: PICKAX, AXE, THROWING KNIVES

Sam did better with the handheld weapons than the throwing knives. His muscular frame made his strikes powerful, and he showed practiced aim.

STRENGTHS: Allies, strength, quiet unassuming nature

WEAKNESSES: Unlikely to attract allies on his own

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 19:1

SCORE: 8

NOTES: Sam illegally worked as a minor miner, making him stronger and more experienced than most Twelve Tributes

* * *

DISTRICT TWELVE FEMALE: SHELBY MAYD

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: PLANTS, TRAPS

Shelby first constructed some traps, then turned to the edible plants table. At the end of the session, we were all surprised to hear one trap activate, revealing a trapped mouse. Shelby released it, stating that she was not hungry.

STRENGTHS: Attitude, allies, sponsors

WEAKNESSES: She'll have to fight someone eventually.

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Family history of depression

ODDS: 28:1

SCORE: 6

NOTES: Agh, everyone in your alliance is too cute

* * *

 **ATTN: HEAD GAMEMAKER TITIAN QIN**

 **TOP PRIORITY**


	26. Interviews

Caesar Flickerman

"I'm just here to do my best and pay back everyone who helped me get here," Lyon said, smiling warmly. He was here to befriend the audience, and he didn't even need my help.

It never failed to take my breath away when I saw a dark-skinned person with blue eyes. Diamonique didn't even seem aware of how stunning she looked in her red dress. Her quick and witty answers to my questions left _me_ trying to keep up with _her._

"Were you excited to get the same score as your sister?" I asked Kodiak. I saw that breaking, panicky look of someone who about to cry and acted quickly. I faked a cough attack, drawing the crowd's concern as Kodiak collected himself. Until then, he'd been clever and funny, and I felt guilty at the obvious self-criticism on his face when he left.

"I'm glad I have a lot of good allies this year. Of course, I think I'm better," Jaydalin said, switching from friendly to intimidating mid-sentence. It seemed every statement from her was double-edged. She didn't have an angle. She had all of them.

"What do you think of the Games so far?" I asked Toshiba. It was a loaded question, sure, but at least it had an easy answer.

"They're necessary. Peace and unity are important. And whoever dies wasn't strong anyway," Toshiba said. I hadn't expected him to be _that_ enthusiastic.

"Thanks for having me here! It's been great," Iosefka said, laughing a little too loud. Maybe some people in the crowd wouldn't notice, but she was forcing it. It's when you try to act normal that you act the most abnormal.

Havelock did my work for me. It unsettled me a bit that the boy had been groomed, in a way that children shouldn't be. He went as far as to take off his shirt. I looked away from the sight of a man barely out of childhood showing his body to screaming crowds who wouldn't have cared if he was five years younger.

"I just wondered if I could, you know? Some people are just perilous. It's like these old books I used to read about little medieval animals. They all had their thing, and the hares were always fighting. You would ask a hare why it was always charging into battle, and it would just say that was the way hares were," Siren said.

"What a stylish outfit," I said to Wit about his pinstriped mauve and burgundy suit.

"I don't really like it," he shrugged. Then his eyes went wide and he froze, seemingly horrified at something. He stayed uncertain and timid for the rest of the interview.

"Too bad Wit was first. I was really excited to show you the outfits I picked," Study said. "I guess it doesn't matter. But then," she paused, puffing on her fake pipe. "I never guess. It is a shocking habit- destructive to the logical faculty."

"I'm just ready to get this started. I'll go out there, kill all the others, and be home in a week," Carter said. Only once had a Tribute been so flippant and so arrogant and actually won. Carter wasn't quite as bad as Jerky, but he was getting close.

"It's kind of silly, isn't it?" Carmelle said of her outfit, lifting her knees to reveal the brown boots beneath her childish pink dress. "They're from the parade, but no one even saw them. They were behind the chariot."

"They're cypress leaves," Merry helpfully explained when I asked about her dress. "And you know, that's not really my name. It's Meredith. But they started calling me Merry-"

"I can't imagine why-" I commented.

"-and it fits a lot better," Merry finished.

"Of course I want to win just for the obvious reasons, but there's also Hanna," Loki said. "It was a childhood romance, and it was just starting to become something more. I dearly hope I see her again." He looked soulfully into the distance.

"I was really scared at first, but I'm a lot happier with Weaver and Jerrimiah. They're both really strong, and they'll stay with me as long as they can," Chenille said. It made it harder to smile, how much she believed in that. That she believed in anything still.

"It was very brave, what you did," I said to Weaver.

"Any brother would have done it," Weaver said, like no other Tribute had ever had a brother of Reaping age.

"Not all brothers," I said.

"Then they're wrong," Weaver said.

Chastity looked like a sweet little bluebird in her fluffy dress.

"I'm just a little girl from Nine, but I'm going to do my very best," she said, smiling toothily. And I hoped she did. She was such a sweetheart.

"I'm actually a little excited. If I win, it will be a fresh start. I've done some dumb things, but that's the past. I think it's what you do with your past that matters. We all mess up, but what matters is that we keep growing," Declan said.

"Any plans for the Games?" I asked Jerrimiah.

"No, I'll just open a fortune cookie right before I go in," Jerrimiah said. He was similarly cheeky throughout the rest of the interview.

"Did you wear things like that at home?" I asked Delaney, about her bejeweled gown, with its neckline that nearly let the _other_ jewels loose.

"No, my mother had a very strict rule against mixing peridots and rubies," she said deadpan. _They're kicking my butt this year._

Ambrosia obviously loved her outfit. She twirled her cane merrily and adjusted her top hat.

"Charmed to meet you, just charmed," she said. "I wish Dog could see me now."

"Who's Dog?" I asked.

"My dog," she said. She saw the question brewing and held her hands up to her sides. "Sometimes I'm not smart."

Aedrick seemed to be going for "smart" and "mysterious", but having seen how hard "smart" was, he erred on the side of "mysterious". As in, he barely said a word.

"It's been tough since my mom died," Sam said, making his fake sadness obvious to hide the real sadness. "But I got past that, and I'll get past this. Everything that happens to me only makes me tougher."

"I couldn't help but notice your dress," I said to Shelby.

"Yes, it seems I accidentally got Delaney's dress. Not that I mean to call her a cow," Shelby said of the black-and-white number. She turned to face the crowd. "Moo."


	27. Last Rites

**My traditional "some Bloodbaths, some red herrings" chapter. IS it as obvious as it seems? Are these ALL red herrings? Did I actually put in three Bloodbaths, two of which are probably really unexpected? Find out soon...**

* * *

Havelock Grimm- District Four male

 _Hey, Floki,_ I thought. _You've died four times, right?_ Three times in conventional or Resurrection Games. Vera said he was there with her in the Games she won. They weren't public record, but she thought I should know. She said he was brave and noble and died hard, which sounded just like my brother.

 _For all our talk about spirits and stuff, I don't know how this works, but at least one of you has to be listening. I know you'll be there when I'm in the Arena. Sorry you have to go through that again, but you always did like fighting._

 _I barely even knew you, but I loved you, and I know you loved me too. Just about the only thing I remember about you, other than your funeral, is a big kid pretending to be Fenrir and giving me rides. That was you, wasn't it? I didn't think I'd outlive Fenrir. It was upsetting enough to read about how he died in Ragnarok, just like everyone else. I hope I'm not around for that._

 _This is going to sound bad, but don't worry, it's not as bad as it seems. I think during the Games, I'm going to try to do this more on my own. I know the gods are still there and stuff, but they haven't been doing much for our family, have they? Norse gods aren't the touchy-feely kind that lift you up when you're weak. They're pretty metal, and I think they must be the ones who first said 'the gods help those who help themselves'. They have their celebrations and their rituals, but outside of that, I think I have to do this myself. Maybe that's what makes us even worth the gods' time. They didn't make us to grovel at their feet. They made us to prove ourselves._

 _Honestly I'm not too optimistic. If you couldn't do it, I don't think I can. But maybe that was your destiny. There I go, saying the gods did it when I_ just _said I had to be self-sufficient. But sometimes it's like that. Even Odin died in Ragnarok, but it was for a reason. And everything cycles anyway. They'll be back, the world will be back, and maybe you'll be back. I can't look that far ahead. I'm just a man, and I need to take charge of my life._

* * *

Chenille Webber- District Eight female

The night before the Games began, I sat on my bed, looking out the window. I heard the door to the outer Ten lounge open and jumped off the bed, running out in my stocking feet.

"Tillo?" I asked, when I saw it was my mentor. "Can you stay awhile?"

Tillo was blunt enough to be visibly inconvenienced and merciful enough to try to hide it. She sat on one of the couches and looked very much like she was hoping I wouldn't ask her to sit by my bed.

"Weaver and Jerrimiah said they won't let me die in the Bloodbath, so I'm not as scared as I was," I said, sitting on another couch. Tillo didn't look away guiltily, but I could see from the very lack of expression that she hadn't even hoped to begin with.

"You don't think it matters, do you?" I asked.

"You really want to know?" she asked, and I knew she meant it.

"Yes," I said.

"No, it doesn't," she said. "I've heard it a million times. I've watched more kids die than you've- the number of-" She paused, frustrated. I knew what she was trying to say. It was hard to phrase, since the sentence structure was weird. "This is how many kids you've met," she said, holding up one hand. "This is how many kids I've watched die," she said, holding her other hand higher. "That is really hard to phrase."

"I don't think I'm going to win," I said.

"Weird things happen. Usually they don't," Tillo said.

"This is all so stupid!" I said, suddenly piqued. "Why'd they do this? After the war, why didn't they just try being friends?" I knew it wasn't as simple as that, but the concepts I was trying to say were similarly hard to put into words.

"Because it's easier to kill people," Tillo said. "Wouldn't I know."

* * *

Loki Saberhagen- District Seven male

The day before I went into the Games, I wasn't thinking of all about the Arena. I was looking at my wrist, at the little leather bracelet with the carved coyote, and I was thinking of the girl who gave it to me.

People like me weren't expected to get a girl. I could coax someone over, convince them that they wanted me for a night, but they'd be gone in the morning, wondering what came over them and leaving to find someone permanent. I didn't do that, though. I _could_ have, but I didn't want someone who came to me because I talked them into it. I wanted someone to actually _want_ me.

That was what it all came down to, wasn't it? Being wanted. The people of Seven knew me as an orphan, but I didn't know if that was true. I only knew I was found on an orphanage doorstep. I didn't crawl there myself. _Someone_ left me. Whether it was parents, relatives, or a random nobody, someone knew I needed parents, and instead of taking care of me, they left me behind. I would never know who abandoned me, or why they didn't want me.

I'd never had the close attachments I'd seen in other people. My bonds didn't go past what I could do for someone and what I could get them to do to me. That was why I cared so much about Hanna, and why I was so afraid to move closer. If I messed things up, I would never get another chance. I would live not having been blind from birth, but having seen for just one day, and that was so much worse.

I was gone from her, probably forever. She might have moved on already, and that hurt me worse than I'd ever hurt since I was born. I'd never missed someone before. I missed her sitting by me in class and waving at me when she reached her house and I kept walking. She held my hand sometimes, and it was always because she reached for me. I wanted to be with her and to get her whatever she needed to be happy and take care of her forever. I wanted to have children with her, to hold my own son and tell him every day that I loved him. I would hold him so tight and never want to put him down.

Those were the kind of things I could never tell anyone but Hanna. If I didn't get back to her, no one would ever know.


	28. Countdown

**I skipped the tubes this year just to move things around and not get into a rut.**

* * *

Iosefka Crow- District Three female

The outfit this year was a sort of of skintight coverall suit that went seamlessly into my shoes. I had horrible visions of a swampy, muddy Arena where such clothing was necessary to make sure we all didn't die of trench foot. But then, it might just be a particularly rugged Arena where normal clothes would get damaged. As the tube started to rise, I pondered which was worse.

* * *

Toshiba Boltwire- District Three male

My outfit seemed pretty durable and hard to damage. That was nice. I remembered the twenty-third Games- or at least I'd seen them, since they were long before I was born. The Tributes had word thin, summery clothes and come out into an ice age. Almost no one actually got killed in fights that year. But then the time for thinking was over, because the tube had risen high enough that I could see for myself.

 _No way. No way. You are kidding me._

* * *

Diamonique Gemmin- District One female

I honestly did not believe what I was seeing. Outside of the glass tube, which hadn't opened like they usually did, was water. We were _underwater._ There was a dull whack on my head as the top of my tube opened, dropping scuba gear onto me. It was simply designed and clearly marked with instructions, not that it made a difference. We were _underwater._ That changed _everything._ All around me, I could see other Tributes, most of them gaping in panic just like me. The only ones with terrifyingly gleeful smiles were Havelock and Siren.

 _59, 58, 57…_

* * *

Declan Malone- District Nine male

 _What do we even-_

 _How do we-_

 _This is-_

 _WHAT THE HECK?!_

What kind of idiot would put the Arena underwater? How were we going to eat? How would we drink? We were all wearing scuba masks, and I dearly hoped I'd put mine on right. I tried to gather my thoughts and take in my surroundings rationally.

We were gathered around a giant conch shell filled with Bloodbath stuff. On either side of me were Shelby and Loki, which was good, at least. But I could tell already this Bloodbath would be complete chaos. Every skill we thought was valuable went out the window. There was absolutely no telling who would live or die.

 _48, 47, 46…_

* * *

Siren Kaecko- District Four female

 _This is hilarious._

I pounded on the glass of my tube, cackling through my mask as I watched the seconds tick down. This was the stupidest, most utterly insane crack dream the Capitol had ever cooked up. _I'll have whatever the Gamemakers are having,_ I thought, and it cracked me up even more. The others probably thought I was already celebrating my victory, but nope. I could swim, sure, but even in Four, we do not _live underwater._ Did they have any idea what this would do to our bodies? Oh, this was not going to be pretty.

 _43, 42, 41…_

* * *

Chastity Burgess- District Nine female

I was glad for the mask, because it covered my mouth and hid my eyes pretty well. No one could tell I was ugly-crying. Everything I'd used to get through life was useless here. No one cared if a little girl was scared. No one would spoil me or coo over me or buy me things. There were no people here, only animals fighting to see who was strongest. And it wasn't going to be me.

 _35, 34, 33…_

* * *

Delaney Rogers-Stone- District Ten female

As the timer counted down, I examined my equipment. I already knew I wasn't going in. The only thing I could get at the Cornucopia and nowhere else was a crossbow, and what good would that do underwater? So I might as well just take the time to familiarize myself with the stuff that would keep me alive. That is, until I caught a glimpse of what looked very much like a pressurized air crossbow in the Cornucopia…

 _28, 27, 26…_

* * *

Weaver Twill- District Eight male

 _I don't even know how to swim._

I'd tried everything in the training center, and that included swimming, but one hour in a pool did not prepare me to spend weeks underwater. I couldn't help Chenille. I couldn't even get myself out of this. Maybe Jerrimiah would live, but it was curtains for us two. I didn't even know how anyone was going to win this one.

 _11, 10, 9…_

* * *

Kodiak Alward- District Two male

Who could have guessed? Whoever in a million years could have guessed? All that training, all that sweat and blood, and none of it mattered. Of everything I learned, it was a childish hobby that made any difference. Out of it all, what might keep me alive is that I'd always loved swimming.

 _5, 4, 3, 2, 1_

* * *

 **So, there it is. I've been mulling this over for a long time, and I finally decided I might as well. It's stupid. It's GLORIOUSLY unrealistic. It flies in violation of biology, common sense, and probably the divine plan for our species. More info on how this is even remotely believable shall unfold in future chapters.**


	29. Bloodbath

Jaydalin Elliots- District Two female

The tube opened around me when the gong sounded. Water rushed in, washing me to the top and then spilling me out. I pushed at the water around me, orienting myself and facing myself toward the Cornucopia.

On my way, I bumped into another Tribute. Without even looking to see who it was,I wrapped my legs around her and pulled at the strap around her face, tearing her mask off. I looped it around my arm and pushed off her, back toward the Cornucopia. Behind me, she swam desperately toward the surface.

At the Cornucopia, I grabbed a spear. Then I noticed the flippers and webbed gloves. The flippers would take too long to master and only slow me down at first, but the gloves I could use. I slipped two on my hands, along with the rest of the Careers except Havelock and Siren, who didn't need them.

I knew the problem before I even turned around. Getting to the Cornucopia and turning around took time. Havelock was already rocketing toward his target, but other than that, most of us could only watch the outliers swim into the distance. We couldn't swim any better than they could, and some of us were having enough trouble just getting where we wanted to go. It was going to be a pathetic Bloodbath this year, and I didn't even know if a Career would win.

* * *

Chenille Webber- District Eight female

 _She pulled my mask of oh god Jaydalin pulled my mask off-_

I swam for the surface, and I almost knocked myself out. There was a barrier between the water and air, an invisible, impenetrable wall keeping me away from life. I pounded at the wall with both fists, screaming with my mouth closed as water flooded into my horizontal nostrils. I beat at the wall with my hands and feet, and then with my head in my panic.

 _Weaver! Jerrmimiah!_ It didn't matter if they knew it was me clawing at nothing like a dying insect. What could they do, even if they knew? They didn't have two masks. I needed something so simple we took it for granted all our lives, but here it was everything. They couldn't give me air. There was nothing anyone could do. I was going to die.

Empty, clawing pain bubbled up in my mouth and nose, both desperate to suck in but held back by my dying brain. I screamed, and bubbles poured from my mouth and bounced off the membrane holding the air away from me. It seemed so thin. Such a razor-thin line keeping me down in something I'd played in so many times but now grabbed at me and sucked the life from me.

When I felt the arms around me, there was an instant of hope. It was Weaver or Jerrimiah. They were going to give me their own masks, and I would have refused, but I needed to _breathe,_ I just needed to _breathe,_ and I would have accepted anything they gave me. But it wasn't Weaver or Jerrimiah.

* * *

Siren Kaecko- District Four female

 _Oh my god._

 _Why doesn't she have a mask?_ There was a girl beating at the surface, flailing helplessly at the paper-thin diaphragm stretched across the top of the Arena. Bubbles roiled around her as she struggled, screaming and trying so hard not to breathe in. No one deserved that. Not in a million years would I kill someone that way.

I swam up next to the girl and took her around the waist. She clung right to me, like we were old friends. She dug her fingers into the fabric at my back and shoved her face into my shoulder. I put my hand on the back of her head and curled my fingers into her hair.

It occured to me, even then, that I could have given her my mask. Not permanently- I wasn't a hero- but off and on. But I never really entertained it, and maybe that made me as bad as them. I could have stopped what they were doing, but I didn't. Someone else living meant me dying. I was good enough to hate what they were doing, but not good enough to put a stop to it, and I didn't hold it against myself. I did what I could, and that was holding the girl until I felt her chest hitch as she took in air and until her muscles went lax against me.

* * *

Carter Wheelson- District Six male

Nothing to worry about. The stupid Careers were just trying to figure out which way was up. All I had to do was pick a direction and swim. I almost pitied them as I swam in for the weapons.

It was just my luck that the _one_ Career who could swim decided to pick on me. Well, Siren and Havelock could, I suppose, but I hadn't seen either of them. I had no idea Kodiak could swim like a fish. He came right at me, cutlass in hand.

 _Hey genius, how you gonna use that underwater?_ I wondered.

Kodiak grabbed me by the throat and pushed off the muddy silt at the bottom of the Cornucopia, pushing us both up to the surface. My back pressed against whatever it was that kept the air out, giving him something to push against.

 _Oh. Like that._

* * *

Wit Castiglione- District Five male

I was going to die. I couldn't stop that. But like hell was I dying without a fight.

It was something even the greatest detective couldn't foil: simple bad luck. Havelock looked around at the Tributes on either side of him, as his gaze fell on me. It was as simple as that. I was on the podium next to the boy from the swimming District, and it was an underwater Arena.

Havelock didn't even bother to get a weapon. He just snagged the back of my wetsuit and sent me spinning down to the muddy bottom of the Arena. A cloud of silt filtered up as I landed, and I used it as cover, scrabbling away as he came after me. He caught me by the foot and I twisted, trying to kick him but slowed down by the water. My searching fingers found a rock and I curled around my pinioned foot, smacking it into his mask. It might have cracked if it was glass, but it was plastic, and it just gave him pause for a second. He reeled me in as I wriggled and writhed, kicking at him until he caught my other foot.

 _This isn't fair! How can I punch when I'm underwater?_ I thought as I vainly struggled for freedom. I found a sharp shard of shell and swiped it across his arm, sending a satisfying, watery cloud of blood up. As Havelock pulled me closer, I took the cheap shot and donkey-kicked him between the legs, savoring his spasmodic jerk.

 _It's all over now._ Havelock had me in his grasp, face-to-face underneath him. He just had to pull off my mask and there would be nothing to do but hold my breath and count the seconds until I couldn't anymore. But he snaked his arms around my neck, and I saw he was taking another track. I silently thanked him for his kindness, and in that last moment, I realized I hadn't seen Study since the Games began. I hadn't even thought of her.

* * *

 **Someone wanted this for New Years and I delivered! It's short because this is such a weird Arena that not many people died, since the Careers are busy enough trying to swim. I only used the designated Bloodbaths, so not many deaths in this discombobulated Arena. It's also short because it's New Years and I'm partying (alone in my room) and I'm drunk as HECK right now and keep having to rewrite words as I spastically press buttons (using the American definition of 'spastic', for any English readers. To you it's kind of a slur, but in American English it means clumsy).**

 **24th place: Chenille Webber- Drowned (indirectly) by Jaydalin**

 **Chenille was sent as a Bloodbath with the note that it was hoped people would be sad by her death. So I cranked it up and had everyone experience a child beating against the centimeter-thick layer of glass that kept her locked underwater. When people send Tributes meant to die and make special requests, it's then you see me flex my writing skills to the limit. I put off writing Chenille's alliance for days because I wanted to get her POV just right. I put everything I had into that writing and while I usually just write for fun, I'm actually proud of what I did with her. Thank you Americanpi for a Bloodbath and also a realistic and tragic girl, and I took her very seriously. PS it was also requested that a Career comfort her, hence Siren. Could have been a couple different ones, but I went with Siren.**

 **23rd place: Carter Wheelson- Throat slit by Kodiak**

 **Carter was your average odious Bloodbath. I don't recall for sure since I'm a little impaired right now, but I think he was closer to the end and made to fill in a slot for me. So thanks for giving the other Tributes a better chance and giving us the villain we needed.**

 **22nd place: Wit Castiglione- Neck broken by Havelock**

 **Wit was made to fill in a space and complement Study, but he grew past that. He reminds us that sidekicks have their own stories, and they're more than a plot device. He fell into the sadly real trap of a toxic relationship and didn't have time to develop on his own, but he was definitely wising up. Holmes will miss her Watson, and if she's worth him, she'll miss him just as a person. Thanks SparkaLeah for a too-real case study in enabling and codependency.**


	30. Logistics

**This is just a short chapter to explain some logistics for the more serious problems of an underwater Arena.**

* * *

Diamonique Gemmin- District One female

The outliers were long gone, giving us time to fiddle around with our equipment and see exactly what was going on. It was clear right away that the little tank I'd secured to the side of my head with a velcro strap was _not_ my air source. On my face was a normal-looking swimming mask- two eye covers attached to a triangular mouth and nose cover. Inside the mouth cover was a little batwing apparatus. I didn't know how it worked, but it was a rebreather. When I took in a breath, I felt water stirring around my face, but it was air that came in. I wasn't sure, but I imagined it was a hyper-efficient filter, stripping the oxygen from the water as fast as I breathed. When I breathed out, the two-way filter allowed my air out but not water in, and a stream of bubbles arced up from me.

"This is bonkers," Kodiak remarked.

 _True, true,_ I thought. _How did I hear that?_

Everyone else's heads had also turned, confirming my thought. The voice had sounded tinny and artificial, and right away I had a guess.

"Can you all hear me?" Siren asked.

"Yes," I said, and heard a chorus of other "yes"es.

"There's a radio in these," I said, pointing at the masks.

"Where?" Havelock asked, poking at his strap.

"Does it matter?" Jaydalin said.

"Probably near the ear," Lyon guessed.

"How far does it go?" I asked.

Siren darted away, swimming lithely into the distance. "Hey," she said after ten feet. It was a little quieter, but we heard it.

"Keep going," Jaydalin said.

Siren swam another ten feet. "Hey," she said.

"I think I get it," Havelock said.

"Yeah," Siren said. She swam to the edge of normal hearing range. A faint noise came from the radio, and then, " _HEY!"_

Siren swam back as I thought it over. While we were underwater, some things were more normal than it seemed. Breathing and hearing wouldn't be a problem, as long as we had our masks. They were our lifelines in every way, making it a lot easier to target the outliers.

* * *

Study Furado- District Five female

 _When you have removed the impossible, whatever remains, whatever unlikely, must be the truth._

It was weird being apart from Wit, but it was _entirely_ like him to swim the wrong way and get himself lost. I'd have to haul out and find him tomorrow, after the Careers were settled from their initial hunt. But first, I wanted to know how all the doohickeys by my head worked.

The rebreather apparatus was easy to figure out. What really intrigued me was the bottle. A little deductive reasoning told me it probably had something to do with water. We needed to be able to drink, unless the Gamemakers wanted the Games to last three days. If we were in freshwater it would be a little easier, but we still needed clean water, or the Games would last a week longer and end with everyone dead of dysentery. And I had the feeling we were in saltwater, a feeling confirmed by pushing the mask up and taking in a bit.

It was evident, then, that the bottle was a water source. But it was empty. There was a top that could be removed, staying tethered by a little strip of plastic, but it revealed only a flexible membrane stretched over the remainder of the bottle.

I set the top aside mentally and focused on the bottle. Nestled just underneath the membrane, there was a suction cup-like plunger that reached all around the bottle. It was connected to a thin stick that ran all the way down the bottle.

On a hunch, I tugged at where the hose met the bottle, which was slightly above the bottom of the bottle. The hose popped free, air pressure keeping the water from flooding it. The exposed end of the stick revealed a little loop, which I stuck a finger through. I pulled down and the plunger slowly moved down the bottle, making me smile at the simple genius. When the plunger, sealed against the sides and forming a vacuum, pulled down, negative pressure pulled water down to fill the gap. The water was forced through the membrane, cleaning out the salt and any other impurities. I was left with a bottle full of water and a hose that attached above the plunger that would otherwise have blocked the water from coming out. I had noticed the telescoped edges of the stick and wondered, and my hunch was again confirmed when I pressed on the stick and it collapsed neatly, preventing accidental breakage while it was exposed.

I reattached the hose and covered my mouthpiece with both hands while I sucked in. As expected, my hands blocked the filter, but I was still sucking in air, and the air came from the hose. Just like a siphon, water from the bottle started to flow in to take its place. The water was clean and salt-free, and when I was done drinking, I blew into the hose. My last hunch was right again when instead of the water level rising in the bottle, the water flowed neatly out of an unseen one-way membrane in the hose where it meant the bottle.

 _Genius,_ I thought. _Way past elementary, to be honest._

* * *

 **So there you have it. Rebreathers, I know from my obsession interest in scuba diving books and documentaries, are real, but they're not indefinite like that yet. These models are much smaller, fitting into your normal swimming mask, and they don't have a tank like real rebreathers, which are just machines that clear excess carbon dioxide and recycle the oxygen into a scuba tank for longer but not indefinite dives.**

 **The water bottle thing is all my own, or at least I didn't look at any designs for it. I actually drew up a schematic that I can post somewhere if I'm not lazy, but I think I'll draw it again on a larger scale. It drew from my knowledge of the negative pressure system our lungs use when we breathe, and also my fun experiments with siphons and interest in the mechanics of hypodermic needles. I thought I'd post this chapter to explain some problems, and the schematic for other people who might be thinking of an underwater Arena, so they could see what one writer did.**

 **EDIT: Images at (India Mike Gulf Uniform Romeo) under "LadyCordeliaStuart". Bonus peek of my face in one since I'm vain.**


	31. Red Sky at Night

Toshiba Boltwire- District Three male

The radios reached to a normal human hearing radius. The bottle filtered water. The two largest obstacles to an underwater Arena were taken care of. The remaining obstacles were the Careers, and that was Delaney's and my next step. We had to find a safe place to hide, and then we could look for Carmelle.

The Bloodbath had been a double-edged sword. Had the Careers kept their heads and thought things through, they could have ended the Games before it began. In such clear water, with nothing whatsoever to hide behind, we had no chance of getting away. If they'd coordinated their efforts, sending Siren and Havelock after the fastest swimmers and having the rest of them mop up everyone else in the water, they could very realistically have killed every outlier, or at the very least, far more than half of us.

But they made one huge mistake. All that potential hinged on them staying in open water. The Cornucopia was on the ocean floor, about fifteen feet below the glassy partition on the surface. When the Careers rushed it, they stirred up clouds of silt, literally muddying the waters and giving us a chance to escape.

Delaney and I had done the logical thing. The sand around the Arena sloped at various degrees, leading either into shallower water, presumably until it hit the partition, or deeper water. Deeper water was darker and more concealing. That, along with the sudden movement of thick clouds over the sun, provided enough cover for the Games to last at least a single day. We swam as swiftly as we could, knowing that if we so much as saw the Careers, we were seeing certain death.

A sudden dropoff opened in front of us, revealing two options in the clear water ahead. To our left, there was a coral reef, stretching as far as I could see, and containing both shallower and deeper stretches. On our right, there was a sprawling, craggy expanse of cracked, rocky ocean floor riddled with nooks and crannies.

"What do you think?" I asked Delaney, hoping she shared my opinion and I wouldn't have to convince her.

"There's a lot more food in the coral…" she said, and I heard the unfinished thought.

"But?" I asked.

"Humans can go three weeks without food," she said, and I knew we were thinking the same thing. _Everyone will go to the coral. The Careers will follow. And the Games won't last three weeks._

* * *

Chastity Burgess- District Nine female

There were two things I knew. One, that I was a spoiled brat. And two, that I wasn't going to live to correct that.

It was only by luck that I'd lived this long. The Careers hadn't come for me during the Bloodbath. It wasn't because I was too cute or too important to die. They just knew _I wasn't worth their time._ All my life I'd been told I was the most precious, adorable thing, and the only reason they hadn't killed me yet was because they couldn't be bothered. And when I saw the blurry shapes in the distance, I knew my number was up.

Even as I swam, I felt the surrealness. It was a frantic race for my life, but at home, the audience was watching four slow-moving shapes drift through the water almost lazily in comparison to the same chase in a land Arena. When I looked over my shoulder, I didn't even know who was chasing me. The Careers all looked the same under the featureless masks. In the dim light, I could barely make out the black hair billowing behind one of them, telling me it was Diamonique. The others were males, and if I had to guess, it would be Lyon and Kodiak. Lyon was obvious, and the last one wasn't swimming fast enough to be Havelock.

It didn't matter in the end. They gained on me, steadily and then increasingly as I tired and they stayed strong. And where was I going to go? It was hard to keep fighting when there was no hope, not anywhere. There was nothing but blue water and pale sand. There was no way to get out of their sight. They would keep following me until the ends of the earth, or until they caught me.

The Careers grew larger, until I could see their faces in detail. They had no expression, just intent. The only sound I heard was my own tiny noises of fear, and I felt the bubbles from my breath tickle my face as they rose.

Shortly after I stopped looking, knowing how close they were and not wanting to see it, I felt a hand on my ankle. I twisted around violently, and Kodiak grabbed my other foot as I tried to kick him. Diamonique arced gracefully over me, grabbing my hand and stretching me out. When I tried to claw at her with my free hand, she hooked a finger under my mask and pulled it off. Salty water rushed into my eyes and up my nose, blinding and choking me. As I thrashed, grabbing for my mask in a panic, she grabbed my other hand and she and Kodiak stretched me out.

 _I can't breathe! I'm blind and I'm drowning I CAN'T BREATHE-_

Lyon's spear through my chest was a relief.

* * *

Lyon Cartier- District One male

Spearing someone underwater was easier said than done. When I made the first attempt, on my own, I didn't even penetrate her wetsuit. Diamonique had to bend a knee under Chastity's back to provide a little resistance, and Kodiak had to release her leg to help push my arm through the water. Then my spear punched through, but barely. Diamonique uncurled her leg hastily, hissing as my lance pricked a little divot in her skin.

"We should go," Kodiak said, as Chastity's body drifted downwards, leaving a red exclamation mark behind her.

 _Don't have to tell me twice._ I wasn't afraid of ghosts or the dark, but you don't have to be afraid to not want to be swimming through a cloud of blood.

"Yeah, they definitely have sharks in here," Diamonique said.

 _Oh, I hadn't even thought of that._ I would have, eventually, but I'd been preoccupied.

"This is going to be the shortest Games since… the last water Arena," Diamonique said as we continued the hunt. The sun was setting unnaturally fast, and it was like someone just reached up and pulled the lightbulb cord. I suspected the Gamemakers had had the same thought as Diamonique, and wanted the outliers to at least be able to evade us for one day.

"This is gonna suck," Kodiak said, and he wasn't wrong. I wasn't a scientist, but I knew humans definitely were not water animals. We weren't even supposed to stay in the _tub_ too long, or we got wrinkly. This wasn't going to be good for our bodies, and it was going to be even worse for our minds. Any hint of claustrophobia could be deadly in these masks, and natural thalassaphobia would wear at us. Maybe even drive us insane. I didn't think whoever won, even a Career, would be sane after this.

* * *

 **21st place: Chastity Burgess- Speared by Lyon**

 **Chastity was never meant to win, so I killed her here just to save room for other people who had a chance. She was a brat, but you only get that way if people around you enable it. I like redemption arcs but not everyone gets one, as little as I admit it. Chastity just plain died too quick, but she did have that moment of clarity. Thanks paperairline for making everyone else's chances better by making a weak Tribute.**


	32. Coral Reef

WIT CASTIGLIONE- Study Furado POV

 _Oh. Oh my gosh. Oh my god…_

* * *

CARTER WHEELSON- Carmelle Wheeler

 _My District partner is dead. I should be sad. I guess it's because I didn't really know him._

* * *

CHENILLE WEBBER- Jerrimiah Cottle

 _No…_

Weaver and I hadn't even seen her at the Bloodbath. It was all so murky and chaotic. We thought for sure she'd gotten away. No one would go after tiny, harmless Chenille. We'd been looking for her ever since, even though we could barely see anything in the darkness. When we saw her face in the glass above us, Weaver and I hung still in the water, as still as she was.

* * *

CHASTITY BURGESS- Declan Malone

She might have been spoiled, but she still didn't deserve this. Good or bad, kids shouldn't die. People try to wipe it away, saying they were brats anyway. It's easy to be sad when you liked the person who died, but that's not why you should be sad. You should be sad _a human died,_ not sad that someone _you_ liked died.

* * *

Sam Wilson- District Twelve male

It was just as well I hadn't learned survival skills. The coral reef had everything we could possibly need. It was the best outcome we could have hoped for in such a bizarre Arena. There were so many fish I could practically reach out and grab one whenever I was hungry, and if they were too fast, surely there was more than enough seaweed. I'd never partaken in it myself, but I knew people in Four were very fond of "sushi".

I only grabbed one thing at the Bloodbath: a utility belt. It was a sturdy leather thing with a metal buckle, and tools of all sorts dangled from it. I was particularly interested in the hatchet and mini shovel. The hatchet would be for when the Careers came knocking, and the shovel was for before that. As strong as I was, I knew hiding was often the better strategy. As the girls explored the Arena- I could hear them faintly chatting and laughing as I worked- I got started on a shelter. There were plenty of hidey-holes in the reef, ranging from tiny nooks to cavernous caves. The larger caves may have been move-in ready, but they were also the first place the Careers would look. I chose a more subtle spot- a crack running under a patch of wavy orange sea anemones. I scooped out sand with my shovel, making our home roomier, and piled rocks around the entrance to conceal it. We'd already spent one night crammed into it, and sleeping underwater was the strangest thing I'd ever experienced. None of us got much sleep. I'd spent the whole night paranoid that my mask would slip off and I'd wake up drowning, and the girls must have felt the same way. We half-slept as we bobbed eerily against the roof of the cave.

In Twelve, most things were dull and gray- even the people. I'd never seen such color as the Arena. Every inch of it was vibrant and saturated. The anemones on our "roof" were bright orange, and striped clownfish swam in and out of them. As I excavated our home, a school of electric blue fish with thumbprint-patterned stripes moved lazily over my head. A round green spotted ray drifted over the sand like a vacuum cleaner, and I gave it a wide berth, unsure if it was a _sting_ ray or just a normal ray. If I'd been younger or more innocent, I could have spent days just taking it all in. But I knew work came before play, and in Twelve, play never really came at all.

* * *

Ambrosia Smith- District Eleven female

Merry, Shelby and I were supposed to be gathering food. And we were, but we were also having a great time exploring the coral reef. We swam in and out of the channels between shelves or brightly-colored coral, and the fish were so thick around us that sometimes they crashed right into us and we felt their wiggly fins as they darted away.

"Look at that one!" Shelby said, pointing to a plant that looked like an upside-down mop head. She reached out to touch it.

"No!" Merry said, but it was too late.

"Ouch!" Shelby said, yanking her hand back and holding it in her other hand. There was a little red welt on her finger.

"It stung me!" she said, and Merry and I clustered around her to look.

"Is it really bad?" Merry asked worriedly.

"No, it just stings," Shelby said, flexing her finger gently. "Like a bee sting."

"Got it. Don't touch the wavy ones," I said.

"They're sea anemones. They sting," Merry said.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Shelby said, putting her unstung hand on her hip in a gesture that looked very strange underwater.

"I thought everyone knew that," Merry said.

Shelby gasped softly. "Look at that one." We followed her gaze and saw the most delicate, intricate seahorse we could have imagined. It was long and thin, its slender tail wrapped around a clump of seaweed. It was pearly white, with shimmery green edges to its scales.

"They're all so beautiful," Merry said softly. The light shifted overhead, and we looked up as a swarm of yellow fish passed by over us, reflecting the light like sunny mirrors. My friends and I didn't even know where to look.

* * *

Shelby Mayd- District Twelve female

I'd learned my lesson about touching unknown fish. From then on, I enjoyed only with my eyes. I pulled myself along some rocks- after checking that there was nothing on them but moss- and squeezed through a narrow channel into a clearing dotted with anemones and coral of all sorts.

"You think we can eat coral?" Ambrosia asked.

"I don't know, but I _know_ we can eat seaweed," Merry said, pointing to a patch of seaweed that grew all the way to the glass over us. We swam over and started to pick handfuls.

Something prickled at the back of my head, and I turned around. "Look out!" I said, pointing at the shark swimming slowly around in the distance. Merry, Ambrosia and I darted in between two rocks, huddling together as it swam our way. As it came closer, I saw it was about six feet long. Not as long as I'd feared, but still long enough to be dangerous. Luckily it didn't even notice us. It just swam over us in a lazy arc, swishing its tail and waving back and forth like a snake.

On my way back to the seaweed, I was distracted by a particularly interesting patch of coral. "They look like brains," I said of the pink, wrinkly things. As I turned around to go back to picking, I spooked a fish in between the coral. It rushed out past me, brushing my face. For an instant, I saw how beautiful it was, with its long, whiskerlike orange tendrils that spread out like a fan around its orange-striped body. _Like a lion,_ I thought. Then the pain started.

Sudden, stabbing pain shot through my face. It was worse than a swarm of wasps- it felt like what I imagined a jellyfish sting was like. My cheek grew hot and felt like it was swelling. I tore at the spot where it touched me, trying to pull the stinger out. I felt another set of hands and opened my squinted eyes to see Ambrosia trying to same thing.

"No, it'll sting you too!" I said. A cramp seized my entire body and my stomach heaved, almost filling my rebreather with vomit. I started to scream, and it was cut short when all the air seemed to leave my lungs. I panted, hyperventilating as I tried vainly to catch my breath.

"You have to help her!" I heard Ambrosia scream.

"I don't know how!" Merry said back.

I felt both of them holding me up, one on each arm, as I jerked with pain. My limbs went cold, and I could feel my heartbeat and how lopsided and irregular it was.

"I don't want to die, I don't want to die!" The words came quick and strained through my choked throat. Another cramp stiffened me, and I sucked in one more breath. The pain welled up and concentrated behind my face in an explosion of blades, and then it was gone, leaving my friends screaming over a limp body.

* * *

 **20th place: Shelby Mayd- stung by lionfish**

 **To the surprise of no one but the characters, the coral reef has proven a double-edged sword. It can be all fun and games with the pretty fish and endless colors, and then one of them is deadly venomous. This time it's hard to pick people to kill, but I went with Shelby because it was going to happen eventually and I'm too soft when it comes to cute young Tribute friends. I also went for some mood whiplash, since I think I tend to telegraph my deaths pretty clearly. I forgot to write down Shelby's submitter in my file, but thanks for sending a young Tribute who realistically didn't have much chance, but didn't turn into an overly cute woobie or a scrappy OP fighter.**

 **Normally it takes about 36 hours to die from a lionfish sting (and they're usually treated and rarely result in death). This being a muttation lionfish, it had STONEFISH venom, which is way worse. It still takes like two hours to die, but this being a MUTTATION stonefish...**


	33. Abyss

Iosefka Crow- District Three female

I picked the coral reef not because it seemed safer, but for the exact opposite reason. I was about to take a huge risk, one that could mean either very quick death or great potential reward. If I pulled this off, I could very well be the Victor. If I didn't… I probably would have died anyway, so go big or go home.

There were several possibilities I would have accepted. The one that first made itself available to me was a snake. I wasn't an expert in zoology, but I recognized the pretty blue-and-black striped snake from a book I'd read back in fifth grade. It was a thin little book filled with pictures of the deadliest animals on earth and little descriptions of them. Swimming three feet from me was one of the most venomous snakes on Earth.

From the Cornucopia, I had a multitool and a net. A net wouldn't do much against a snake. The multitool I planned to use, but not yet. When I made my move, I had a normal rock in my hand. It was a sizeable rock, about the size of a baseball. The snake was about two feet long, and very slender and light. I'd been laying still on the ocean floor, pretending I wasn't a threat, and it seemed the snake hadn't taken notice of me. As quickly as I could with the water pushing against me, I smashed the rock at the snake, aiming just below its head. I was wagering that I'd either hit the snake or, since sea snakes were very timid, it would swim away. If I miscalculated and got bitten, I would be dead in an hour.

I hadn't miscalculated. The rock pinned the snake against another rock, just below the head. As the snake coiled and thrashed lightly, I took out the multitool. I beheaded the snake neatly, working below the rock to stay away from its teeth. I let the body drift away and waited a few minutes for the snake head to stop spasming, its mouth snapping open and shut.

I'd dissected plenty of things: a crayfish, a rat, a fetal pig, a cow eye… The blade on the multitool wasn't nearly as keen as a scalpel, and I was no expert in snake anatomy, but skulls are skulls. I gently broke through the facial bones, exposing a tiny, translucent sac. I spread out my net, revealing the sharp shards of coral I'd woven into the strands. One by one, I coated them in venom.

* * *

Carmelle Wheeler- District Six female

I had to get back to my allies. If I didn't get back to Toshiba and Delaney _soon,_ I would die. The Careers would find me, or a shark would get me, or anything else. It was so important to find them that I was swimming in broad daylight, in open water. I constantly looked over my shoulders, even though I knew if I saw anything, seeing it wouldn't save me.

The sand under me dropped off suddenly, revealing two choices. I'd seen Delaney and Toshiba heading this way before the stirred-up sand of the Bloodbath blocked my view, so I knew they went one way or the other. One way led to a coral reef, and the other to a barren, rocky ocean floor. _But which way?_

The coral reef was full of fish, plants, colors, and life. Far off in the distance, I could even see two Tributes swimming. I knew they weren't Careers from their carefree slow pace, but I still ducked down, not wanting to be seen. The sight of them solved my problem. No way would Toshiba have wanted to go somewhere that would definitely end up crowded and drawing the Careers' attention. He and Delaney definitely went the other way, toward the cracked ocean floor. I swam that way, hugging close to the sand at the bottom.

"Toshiba? Delaney?" I called as I swam, careful not to get too loud. Fish didn't hunt by sound, but Careers did. I kept calling as I made my way across the floor, peeking down into the cracks.

"Carmelle? Is that you?" Delaney's voice came a few minutes later.

"Where are you?" I asked.

"We're in one of the cracks. Oh, I guess that doesn't help. I'll come out," she said. I looked up at movement in the distance and saw her poking her upper body out from between some rocks. She raised her hand and waved.

"I see you! I'm coming," I said, and I sped up.

A shadow fell across me, and I looked up, praying it was Toshiba but terrified it was a shark or a Career. But it was neither. A ray swam behind me, the sun casting its shadow in front of it and on top of me. It was about three feet across and round, with a white underbelly.

"Oh, hey. Plenty of room in the ocean, I guess," I said, smiling at it. It folded its arms and its body rippled as it dove suddenly at me. _It's going to bite me,_ I thought, and I dodged to one side.

It didn't even touch me. I was swimming one second, and then lightning hit me. My body stiffened, my head thrown back and my teeth clenched. It was like a giant hammer hit every inch of me, and everything flashed white.

I opened my eyes, not having realized they were closed. I was drifting, slowly floating upwards towards the glass. I heard Delaney screaming, and when I followed her voice, I saw her swimming frantically toward me. I was dimly aware that wouldn't be a good idea, but I couldn't think of why.

The ray circled underneath me, then gracefully arced up toward me. The water was warm around me, and I felt weightless. I wasn't sure where I was, and I couldn't think straight, like I was half asleep. The world flashed white again, and this time I didn't open my eyes after.

* * *

Aedrick Laquois- District Eleven male

It was dark. Not because the sun was down. I could still see it, far above me, but it was getting weaker. Below me, I could see down into maybe endless depths, until it was pitch black. Over my head, there was brighter water, leading all the way up to the glass, which I couldn't distinguish from the water at this depth. I was still making my way deeper, skirting along the rocks at the edge of the dropoff. Ahead of me, there was open water. Nothing at all swam in that endless expanse, at least not that I could see. I couldn't see the bottom, and I couldn't see the edge of that open blue. Maybe it went on to the end of the ocean. I knew for sure no Tribute would get to the force field in this Arena- at least not that part of it.

The blackness scared me. I hated not being able to see how far I was from the bottom. It reminded me of a chart I'd seen in school. It was in a book about the ocean. There was a foldout page in the middle of the book. On the first page, there was a line showing the ocean surface. A man was floating in the water, half in and half out. More lines under the water showed important depths, like normal dive levels or things like that. When you folded out the next page, it showed deeper levels, and the water got darker. I remembered folding out page after page, my stomach growing heavy at the awful _scale_ of that depth. More pages showed darker water, then a pure black void, lit only by strange, terrible fish. One of the earlier pages had a shark on it, so far below the man he would never even know, and easily five times his size. Yet the shark was a pinprick in that endless gulf of water that went still further down. I'd started to think the water would never end, when _seven pages later_ I found the bottom. There was a ship down there, broken into pieces. It must have been ten times the size of the shark, but still it was only a pinprick. More than a hundred of those ships, end to end, still wouldn't have been close to the surface of the water.

I'd lain awake that night, thinking about the water. Somehow, I'd managed to make it worse. I thought of myself standing on a boat. Even as I thought it, my brain shied away, trying to think of anything else, but sometimes thoughts just won't leave. I thought of myself jumping off that boat, or maybe being pushed, and there was a cannonball chained to my foot. I thought of how the surface would shoot away from me as I rocketed down, and I thought _just how long would I fall?_ How long would the water underneath me go. Minutes would go by, and I would still be falling. Falling at the speed of a dropped cannonball, and it would take that long to stop falling. I thought of how very large the ocean would be around me, and how I would be a speck. And then, eventually, I would be on the bottom, next to that ship ten times as large as that shark five times as long as the man. And there would be water all above me, as far up as a hundred of those boats end to end. I had never imagined remoteness like that. I couldn't even wrap my head around being that far from any other human.

That was why I was going down. It terrified me, and my stomach dropped every time I looked down. I wasn't going that far, of course. Humans _couldn't_ even go that far. The very weight of the water would crush me. But I was going very far, as far as I could. When I couldn't go any farther, I would find a crack in the rock wall and make a home. No one would follow me here, not even the Careers. I was safe here, because no human was ever meant to be here.

* * *

 **19th place: Carmelle Wheeler- slain by electric ray**

 **Nowhere's safe in the ocean. Some places are safer than others, but humans aren't the top predators here. Carmelle's form straight up admitted she wouldn't realistically win, and pretty much I just had to kill someone. Usually I have some clear ideas at this point, but this batch is harder to plan for, and I'm having a hard time picking victims. Hence the slower death rate. Carmelle didn't have that much going for her in the Games, but she was going places in life. She would have done a lot for Six if she hadn't been Reaped. Thanks Bulletproofreed for Carmelle, who had realistic limitations and didn't become bombastic.**

 **Science note: The Bloodbath area was about 15 feet deep. The Arena deepens the farther out it goes, generally. The coral reef ranges from 7-20 meters deep and the rocky floor is about 10 meters deep. The farthest I've gone down is about 15 feet and I know how much that hurts your ears and just feels weird. The Tributes all feel the same way, I just didn't go into it much. Their ears have long ago popped and equalized, so that's a little better. Aedrick is currently about 35 meters down, pretty close to the 40 meter point that marks the deepest most amateur divers go. Since they're using rebreathers that make ideal breathing air from water, they don't have to worry about the SAME concerns divers do using bottled oxygen, but pressure and nitrogen still apply, and they can't go down forever.**


	34. 47 Meters Down

Jaydalin Elliots- District Two female

"Hey, I'm going to check out the deep part," Siren said as we sat around the Cornucopia, awkwardly trying to use the soup packets that were supposed to go into our water filters.

"Good idea," Havelock said, moving to follow her.

"I'll come with you!" I said quickly. "And I bet Kodiak wants to, too."

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Can't let you have all the fun," Kodiak said. We swam next to each other behind Siren and Havelock to the dropoff.

I shuddered when I looked down at the inky blackness stretching on forever under my feet. "No one would want to go down there."

"Which is exactly why someone _would,"_ Siren said. She led the way, swimming headfirst toward eternity.

 _This is such bull,_ I thought as I followed. All my life I trained, and they sent an _underwater_ Arena. No one could train for that! They wasted my whole life! I barely had a better chance than anyone else. I put my life on the line for a shot at everything, and they cheated me.

It wasn't going to stop me, of course. I was still going to win. It would just be that much harder. I supposed I should be grateful to the challenge, but it still smacked of unfairness to me.

 _But that's the way it's going to be._ It grated on me, but I had to suck it up and power through. Sometimes life isn't fair. All you can do is beat it to submission and _force_ it to give you what you deserve.

* * *

Siren Kaecko- District Four female

The others didn't have to be so jumpy. Havelock and I _did_ have a big advantage, but we weren't going to go all crazy on them. They'd been watching us like hawks since the Games started. Every time either of us said anything about going out to hunt, someone jumped in, saying this or that person should go with us. _But not our District partner,_ came the unspoken implication. They didn't want us going on our own and getting ideas. Well, the joke was on them. I didn't have any ideas. We weren't _fish._ We didn't live _totally underwater._ We lived on land, like normal people. We liked fishing, but people from Four are not fish.

"We shouldn't go much deeper," I said as we made our way down the rocky cliff. We didn't think anyone would be dumb enough to go into the bottomless abyss, but we had to check. "We've got to be pushing fifty meters. It's not safe farther down." While I was not a fish, I did know about water. I knew diving was more dangerous the deeper you went. I could already feel the increased pressure on my body, and that wasn't the worst of it. Divers had trouble because the bottled air they used reacted oddly at high pressure. Our air was freshly recycled from water, so I didn't know how it would work, but I didn't want to risk it.

"No problem," Kodiak said from about ten feet below me. He looked up over my shoulder, and cocked his head.

"Hey, Jaydalin found someone," he said, pointing above me.

I turned my head to look.

"Oh my god _Jaydalin no!"_

Havelock Grimm- District Four male

By the time I saw her, she was too far above us to catch. I watched in horror as Jaydalin grew smaller, chasing Aedrick. Siren was screaming at her, but she either didn't hear or didn't understand.

 _We should have told her. She doesn't know._

"What are you two upset about?" Kodiak asked, rapidly catching our panic. "He's not going to hurt her."

 _No, because she's already dead._

* * *

Aedrick Laquois- District Eleven male

They went right past my little nook without seeing it. I thought I was safe, but then Jaydalin doubled back. Maybe she thought she'd noticed something, or maybe she was just checking again. Either way, she caught a glimpse of me, and I made a break for it. She was still a few feet below me, and I pushed off the rock, giving me a second's head start. I didn't even think about where I was going. I just wanted to be away from her.

I didn't have to look back to know she was gaining on me. I fled through the water, clawing upwards like a fledgeling bird. The water grew lighter as I approached the surface, and the lessened pressure increased my speed. She was still catching up. I had to-

 _THUNK._

Blood streamed from my nose, clouding the water. My head was snapped back, my body in an arc as I lay stunned just below the solid partition against the water's surface. I didn't even feel Jaydalin's knife in my back.

 _But I didn't die in the Bloodbath. I made it this far. Better than I thought._

* * *

Jaydalin Elliotts- District Two female

Siren yelled up after me, but there was no need. I'd already seen Aedrick, and I was on it. I followed him to the surface, stabbing him in the back when he smacked into the glass. As his blood swirled around me, I looked down to see my allies hadn't followed.

"What are you doing down there?" I asked, starting to swim back to them. "You really think there's more than one?"

"What's the deal? Come on, guys," I said when they didn't meet me halfway. I finally got to them and saw Siren was hugging herself like she was terrified. Havelock wiped at his face, and his hand bounced off the mask.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked. Siren looked away, putting a hand to her face.

"How do you feel?" Havelock asked huskily.

"Fine. You're creeping me out. What's your problem?" I asked.

Havelock looked at Siren, whose throat hitched as she nodded.

"When you go underwater, pressure forces nitrogen into your blood. The nitrogen forms bubbles. When you go back to the surface, those bubbles expand, blocking your blood vessels. If you go slowly, they have time to dissipate. If you go fast…" Havelock started.

My heart started to thump. "What? What happens if you go fast?" I asked. _Why are you crying, Siren? Tell me why you're crying!_

"It does damage," Havelock said slowly. "Fatal damage. It's… painful."

"What are you saying. I'm… a swimming corpse?" I asked, my voice sliding up shrilly.

 _Say no! Say no! TELL ME NO!_

* * *

Havelock Grimm- District Four male

"We don't know that," I said, wincing at my own lie. "I don't know how far down you have to be, or how fast you have to go. I never dove this deep."

Jaydalin looked at Siren. "I don't know either," Siren said dully.

"That's not fair," Jaydalin whispered. "That's not fair. I trained for this. I was ready."

"Let's go back to camp and get some rest," I said. "I think we all need that."

* * *

Jaydalin Elliotts- District Two female

 _Fatal damage. Fatal damage. Fatal damage._

Not like this. I practiced with weapons. I watched the tapes religiously. I honed my physique and my mind, ferreting out every weakness and destroying it. I lay awake into the night, my breath hitching at every twinge in my body. Was it starting? Did that itch mean my nerves were fraying, snapping, sending insane dying signals to every part of me? My throat tickled. Were my lungs shutting down? I didn't know, and there was nothing I could do. I was what a Career dreaded above anything- helpless.

 _I don't want to die._ No one does, not even Careers. We're scared too, which makes us fight even harder. I didn't want to die here because of a stupid fluke I had no way to prepare for. _I want to see Mercura again. I love her so much._

My eyes flew open. I hadn't realized I'd fallen asleep, until I was jolted awake by the worst pain I had ever imagined. I tried to sit up, forgetting I was underwater, but it didn't make a difference. I couldn't move my legs, or most of the rest of my body. I could only whimper and twitch at the agonizing sensation of every joint in my body being pulled apart. Every inhale brought a starbust of pain in my chest, like a knife in my heart. _It's my blood it's my blood,_ I thought. My bubbling, boiling blood, fizzing with nitrogen until it foamed like soap.

I felt pressure on my hands. Siren and Havelock were gripping them, one on either side of me.

"I'm sorry," Siren sobbed. Floki said nothing, but I could see the guilt in his tear-filled eyes.

"It hurts," I whimpered. Razor blades ran inside my veins with each pump of my heart. "Make it stop."

I tried to be strong for Mercura. I didn't want her to be afraid. But I hoped she just looked away.

* * *

 **18th place: Aedrick Laquois- Stabbed by Jaydalin**

 **Something DID happen to Aedrick! He died. Not exactly because he went that far down (he stopped right around the danger zone since, surprise, it started to hurt) but expressly so I could do the bends death. Aedrick was hampered by his low self-esteem and lack of confidence, but he had a good thing going. He was the only one brave enough to hide in the abyss, and he kept his mental state despite its creepiness. Thanks Monkeypower for a last-minute submission that still met all the marks.**

 **17th place: Jaydalin Elliotts- The Bends**

 **Aedrick's form said that if he died, it would be cool if it was Jaydalin. Funny how that worked out. Jaydalin was a more conventional Career than I often get, which is actually welcome. I get a lot of weird ones. She had a good skill set and motive without being overly sympathetic or unsympathetic. She got screwed by the Arena, like everyone else, but she got some kills in before she went. Thanks AnnaBanana for Jaydalin, who chose her own path and stuck it out.**

 **It's hard to pinpoint exact depths for the bends since divers usually use bottled air that mixes different chemicals, while the Tributes are breathing pure oxygen, carbon, and nitrogen that mimics normal air. It's also not pressurized, which is a huge factor in the bends. Speed of ascent is the other hinge point, and Jaydalin was moving at top speed. I don't know if that might actually have made it faster than a few hours, so I guessed. I do know that two guys dove to the Andrea Doria, which is about 60 meters down, and ascended at top speed due to running out of air. They died almost immediately upon hitting the surface, with onlookers noting that they did in fact bleed like foamy soap. I thought about making it faster, but my best guess is that this is closer to accurate.**


	35. Sea of Tranquility

JAYDALIN ELLIOTS- Kodiak Alward

"Can we just never go back there again?" No one else was in that horrible, dark place. And if they were, they would most likely kill themselves just by coming back up.

* * *

CARMELLE WHEELER- Delaney Rogers-Stone

I gasped when I saw the face against the glass. We'd been waiting for her to find us. Now her eyes were finally looking down on us. I'd seen the faces before, but I'd never realized how eerie it was. They were still alive in the photos. Carmelle's face didn't even know she was dead.

* * *

AEDRICK LAQUOIS- Ambrosia Smith

My District partner was so quiet, even quieter than me. For him, it wasn't because he was nervous about other people thinking he was weird. He just didn't think people cared about him at all. But I did care.

* * *

SHELBY MAYD- Meredith Cypress

I used to think the reef was beautiful. It still was, but not the same. It was beautiful like a tiger, all pretty stripes and colors until it got too close and you saw what it could do.

* * *

Lancia Audren- District Six mentor

It never hit me as hard as it did some of the other mentors. I cared about my Tritues and did what I could, but I guess I had a different perspective than they did. I'd lived my life by earning what I got and working for myself. I knew I had people that helped, but in the end, you make your own life. It was up to them to win, and when they didn't, I knew it wasn't my fault. I was sad, but I carried on, like I always had.

* * *

District Six

Debate class and student council floundered without Carmelle. They carried on, but it was boring to watch a bunch of students who didn't really care. No one really missed Carter but Suli. She cycled through a series of similar men, getting mistreated and dumped until one finally landed her in the hospital, where she met a fellow patient and experienced actual love for the first time in her life.

* * *

Kodiak Alward- District Two male

"That's sick."

I wasn't talking about how Jaydalin died. I didn't want to talk about that ever. I was talking about her body, which was bobbing lightly against the glass overhead.

"They're not going to come for her," Lyon said, voicing all our thoughts.

"No shit," Siren said. "She's been there all day."

"Why didn't she drift away like the others?" Havelock said.

"No current," Siren said. The water was still around us, lacking the faint movement it had yesterday.

"They want her there," Lyon said. "Just to creep us out."

"I hate it," Diamonique said.

"Let's move camp," I said. It was bad enough that first night, when the Bloodbath bodies were strewn around. I'd been lying in the Cornucopia trying to decide whether to face down so I wouldn't see them, or to face up so I could make sure they didn't come closer. Stranger things had happened in the Arena. It would be the first time the dead came back.

"Yes!" Diamonique said. I expected the others to protest about how babyish it was to be spooked by some dead bodies, but no one disagreed. We started packing supplies up and destroying what we didn't want.

"Will she be there forever?" Havelock wondered, looking back as we swam away.

"She'll drift out to deeper water eventually," Lyon said. "Something will eat her, I guess."

 _Unless it doesn't. Unless she sits there and rots, bits of her flaking off into the water we drink._ I shuddered, and gorge rose in my throat.

I hadn't told the others about the perverse urged I'd had to swim to her and see her up close. No matter how much I tried not to, I kept imagining her body flipping over, revealing her bloated face and ruptured veins. Her hair billowed all around her, like those stories about pale-skinned ghost girls in wells and rivers. I imagined the moon shining through it, backlighting her like a halo as she drifted down toward us, to do whatever it is the stories never get to.

I was nearly limp with relief when the others agreed to move. I wasn't afraid to kill and I wasn't afraid of those I'd killed, but I didn't like dead bodies. Especially not female ones.

* * *

Merry Cypress- District Seven female

Ambrosia and I swam from one spot to another, checking the traps I'd made out of seaweed and coral twigs. They were simple framed net contraptions, catching fish small enough to get tangled in the seaweed and not strong enough to just break the strands.

"It's a cardinal fish," Ambrosia said, reading from the book she'd been sponsored. It was a little laminated volume of pictures, names, and short descriptions of reef-dwelling fish. It didn't tell us anything very useful, but it was fun to find the fish.

I smacked the fish on the head with the rock I carried for that purpose and unwound it from the seaweed.

"Think it's edible?" I asked Ambrosia.

"Probably. I think most fish aren't poisonous to _eat,_ it's just the ones that stick you that you have to worry about," she said. _Like lionfish,_ both of us thought and neither of us said.

I opened the dead cardinal fish's mouth and fed a braided strip of seaweed into the throat and out through the gills, adding it onto the stringer of four dead fish we'd already caught. We made our way back to our den and to Sam, picking up two more fish on the way.

Sam was still puttering around our shelter, widening it out and camouflaging it. He flinched when he saw us, then waved when he recognized us.

"We brought fish!" Ambrosia said, holding up our stringer.

"How do we cook them?" Sam asked.

"Let's just build a fire!" Ambrosia deadpanned.

"I think it's sushi for us," I said. "Don't the Capitolites love that stuff?"

"Almost as much as velvet and puce," Sam said. He scraped the scales off the fish with his knife and cut them in half as neatly as he could without any practice. Each of us took a half and started gnawing on it.

"Be careful, the bones stick out," I said after one tickled my throat on the way down.

"It's better than seaweed…" Sam cautiously praised.

"It's nice and salty," Ambrosia said.

"I would go so far as to say it's not disgusting," I said. All in all, five stars.

* * *

 **Not a misleading title this time. No one died and it was tranquil. Also Ambrosia was sponsored a fish book.**


	36. Deus Ex Charcharadon

Delaney Rogers-Stone- District Ten female

I could die. I could die at any time. I'd known that was true from when I got Reaped, but seeing Carmelle _showed_ me. It was _real_ now, not just a vague danger that could happen. It wasn't even that I _could_ die. It was that I _almost certainly would_ die. Everyone in the Arena was thinking it, except maybe the Careers. But none of us really thought it would happen. We felt how close it was and felt like we were being realistic, but when we died, we'd still be surprised. Right up until the end, I bet Carmelle thought she'd make it. Just like me.

"I'm going to check our traps," Toshiba said, referring to the little things we'd made with scraps of thin seaweed. They were more of honeypots, really. We'd caught a hermit crab just by scooping it up, then smashed the shell and used it as bait. Every now and then a crab or some crustacean came by and was slow enough for us to catch. Toshiba looked over his shoulder at the top of our crack, then swam away.

 _I have nothing else to do. I'll go help him,_ I thought a moment later. I poked my head up into the open, and my heart sped up and broke all at once. The Careers were swimming toward us, and Toshiba was swimming straight away. He'd seen them, saw he'd been spotted, and left me. He left me for the Careers to kill and buy him time.

I knew there was no hope of getting away, but I tried anyway. I swam after Toshiba, maybe thinking just a little bit that I wasn't going to lead them _away_ from him. It would only take one of them to kill me. The rest could keep hunting him, all across the ocean if they had to.

It was eerie how quiet it all was. The water was calm and cool around me. The only sound I heard was my own breathing. The sun danced on my outstretched arms as I pulled myself along. Anywhere else, it would have been beautiful.

* * *

Toshiba Boltwire- District Three male

There's only one winner. Everyone says they would stay the same and never let the Games corrupt them. Some of them even think it's true. But if you win the Games, that means twenty-three kids died in your place. Somehow or other, you got to the end. I didn't see any of us saying they didn't want to win. You have to put yourself first. Anything else is quite literally suicide.

The cracks underneath me narrowed and thinned out, revealing patches of sandy ocean floor a foot underneath me. It made no difference, since I couldn't have hidden anyway. They were too close. Any minute now they would catch Delaney. One would stay, and the others would keep coming. I'd bought myself only a slim chance.

* * *

Kodiak Alward- District Two male

As we reached the start of the sand, Siren and I broke off to make sure Delaney couldn't escape to either side. We were nearly on her, despite the last burst of energy she'd put out. Toshiba wasn't far ahead, either, at least not for the Fours. With any luck it would be me, Lyon or Diamonique who got to Delaney first, so she wouldn't slow Havelock or Siren down.

The sand underneath me erupted. Through the explosion of silt and murk, a staggeringly wide mouth appeared, all white teeth and extended pink gums. The jaws closed on my leg, biting it through. A massive, curved gray body tossed and wrinkled as it forced my leg into its throat, and blank white eyes stared emptily at me.

 _Shark,_ I thought distantly as blood flooded from my leg, clouding the water. The shark opened its maw and bit into me again, its jaws clamping across my waist and chest. I didn't even feel the sharpness, just the instantly bone-crushing pressure, like being pinned underneath a truck. My ribs crumpled like twigs and my head snapped painfully as the shark jerked its head back and forth.

In my last moments, I surprised myself by hoping my allies got away. Then, out of nowhere, I laughed, and blood gushed from my mouth. _Put this on my gravestone. Put "Kodiak Alward, bitten into pieces by a shark"._

* * *

Delaney Rogers-Stone- District Ten female

The ground trembled as something burst out of the sand. A huge form rose up right behind me, knocking me aside like a careless bull. In all the silt and muck and blood, I couldn't even see where I was going. Then a huge blow smacked me through the water, spinning me wildly.

I opened my eyes in a daze. I was still moving, spinning as I hung nearly upside-down in the water. I was maybe ten feet from the shark, back over the cracked part of the ocean floor. Mere feet from me, a beast as long as my house thrashed, tearing Kodiak into pieces. I couldn't even process how large and deadly the thing was. I only knew it would have Kodiak shredded in seconds, and then it would look for its next meal.

* * *

Siren Kaecko- District Four male

 _Nope._

That was a definite nope. Toshiba and Delaney were out of the equation. Kodiak was out of the equation. There was a _great white shark_ ten feet from my face, and that meant one thing. _Get out._

I doubled back, into the cracked part of the Arena. As I reached the nearest crack that I could fit into but a shark couldn't, I looked over my shoulder. My allies were close behind me. Behind them, the shark rampaged, surrounded by Kodiak. There were three main pieces of him. The shark was swallowing one, the muscles in its throat rippling with its brutal power. The other two pieces floated above it. The gray shark was surrounded and highlighted by Kodiak's blood. And everyone knew what blood and sharks meant.

* * *

Toshiba Boltwire- District Three male

Just like that, the Careers and Delaney were gone. I'd turned my head at the screams, expecting to see Delaney die and already feeling guilty, but it wasn't her making that high-pitched noise. Seconds later, there was no sign of any living human. Just a shark surrounded by blood. In the distance, I could still see its white eyes, rolled back in the hunt and reflecting the light. They flickered, turning black, and two doll eyes focused on me.

I could outswim Delaney. I might be able to outswim some of the Careers. But not a shark. I knew that, and even then, it surprised me how swiftly the apex predator came for me.

* * *

Delaney Rogers-Stone- District Ten female

Everything was chaos, and that gave me one chance.

The Careers were waiting for the shark to leave, and then they'd come for me. There was only one way I could possibly get out of this.

I poked my head out of my hiding place. If the shark followed the blood-scent in our direction, it would be all over for me. If he went after Toshiba, I had hope. _Please,_ I prayed to an animal. _Please go that way._

I prayed I didn't have any of Kodiak's blood on me as I swam up into open water. The shark was turned away from me. It shot forward, leaving me behind as it went for the only prey it could see. The Careers were still hidden. They weren't stupid enough to swim in open water with a shark. That was only me.

I didn't look back. It didn't matter what I saw. If the Careers ventured out too early, there was nothing I could do. All I could do was swim for the coral reef, where I could elude them i the thick cover. I swam with all my strength, expecting at every moment to feel a Career's hand on my ankle. When I reached the reef, I clawed into a thick coral patch, finally looking behind me. When I saw nothing but open water, I cried.

* * *

 **You know those flat sharks that lie in the sand until you step on them? It would be way scarier if they were Great White sharks.**

 **16th place: Kodiak Alward- Eaten by shark**

 **I had this in mind for a while- the shark surprising the Careers. Only one got eaten, though, which is nice. There was nothing wrong with Kodiak. I just didn't really have a victory set up for him, and nothing came to mind. Getting eaten by a shark is a pretty metal way to go, though. Thanks JAJ for Kodiak, who had his own demons even though he was tough and did his job but never reveled in it.**

 **15th place: Toshiba Boltwire- Eaten by shark**

 **He was kind of villainous, so he wasn't going to be popular enough to win. His form said he would be willing to betray his allies, but it ended up backfiring when he left Delaney for dead. Imagine that, me having a villainous plan backfire. Toshiba never got his strong anti-Career alliance, but one Career _did_ die trying to kill him, so chalk one up for Toshiba. Thanks Galaxy842 for sending someone who is actually selfish and wants to win even if someone else has to die, just like most people would be in real life.**


	37. You Can Do It

Weaver Twill- District Eight male

I hadn't thought I would get this far. Here we were, three days into the Hunger Games, and I wasn't dead yet.

"Thirteen of us left. We might actually pull this off," Jerrimiah said with a smirk.

"Maybe you," I said.

"Why me?" Jerrimiah asked.

"You're just stronger than me and all that," I said.

"You're so down on yourself. You made it this far," Jerrimiah said.

"Just lucky, I guess," I said.

"Are the Careers lucky when they win?" Jerrimiah asked.

"No, they're all trained," I said.

"You lasted longer than two of them," Jerrimiah said.

"I guess," I said.

"You don't _guess._ You _know,"_ Jerrimiah said. "You're so certain you suck at everything. Did Kodiak and Jaydalin suck at everything? Man up and admit you're not terrible."

 _They_ are _dead,_ I admitted. And I wasn't. Maybe luck had something to do with it, but facts were facts. Whatever the reason, I survived them. Whatever it took to survive, I had more of at least some part of it.

"You really think I can win?" I asked. Jerrimiah was so much cooler than I was. He hopped trains and rode cows and all those cool things Ten kids did.

"Yeah, why not?" he shrugged. "It's happened before. Just as well you as anyone else. And really, _better_ you. I'm trying to win and all that, but the world will be better off it it's you. I'm just a dumb cowboy. The cows will go on if I die. Thatcher needs you."

"If you win,can you send him some money? Not much, just so he can get a little house?" I asked.

"Don't worry about that. Buy it yourself. But yeah, of course I will," Jerrimiah said. He shook his head and sighed. "You got me all soft, darn it."

We sat side by side on the far side of the coral reef, looking out into the open ocean. I thought it must remind him of home, how clear and wide it was. It certainly didn't look anything like Eight. If Jerrimiah thought I could make it, maybe I really could. I was ready to die when I volunteered and if I did, I wouldn't be sad, but maybe I really could see Thatcher again. I knew he was rooting for me, with that unmerited, dauntless faith all little brothers have. He thought I was the coolest person in the world. Jerrimiah thought I was cool, too. Maybe it was time I started thinking it.

* * *

Declan Malone- District Ten male

The longer I stayed down here, the worse it would be for my body. I was no doctor, but I knew people weren't meant to live underwater. I already felt weirdly weightless and off-balance, and I couldn't even tell what damage was going on inside my brain. I had to get out of here and back to Micah.

People who didn't have kids couldn't understand. It wasn't that parents were better, or smarter, or wiser. We were just different. When I first saw my son, I changed down to my soul. Until that moment, I did everything for myself. The woman I kept, the people I ran with, the things I did, were all for me. The change Micah made in me was unfathomable. My priorities rearranged themselves in the blink of an eye. All my life, my first thought was 'what's in it for me?'. I looked at the fragile, beautiful thing in Madeline's arms and something came into my head that I never would have imagined before.

 _I would die for you._

Just like that, I wasn't my priority anymore. Everything in my world was that perfect life we'd made. He was the reason I got clean. He was why I left my gang, knowing that if I stayed with them I wouldn't be around long enough to watch him grow up. He was why I worked, and why I stayed, and why I carried on. And it was all worth it I wasn't a different person. I was a better me, the me I should have been without a child. I loved him so much I thought I'd never even understood love before. After he was born, I couldn't have stayed with the gangs if I'd wanted to. I understood life after looking at him, and I knew how precious it was.

I loved my son so much I was willing to do things that made me unworthy of him. I took a spear at the Bloodbath. I knew my son might watch me kill someone. I knew how twisted it was that I was willing to kill someone else's child, knowing they loved that child the same way I loved Micah. I couldn't claim the high ground, and I wasn't going to live the example I wanted for my son. I was willing to make that sacrifice. _Any_ sacrifice for him. To ensure my son got a safe, secure life, I was willing to make his father into a murderer.

As I swam through the rainbow reef, alive with color and wildlife, I wasn't looking for other Tributes. I didn't _want_ to kill. I just knew that if it came down to it, I wouldn't hesitate. My life wasn't important. My morality wasn't important The only thing that mattered was him.

* * *

Iosefka Crow- District Three female

I wasn't looking for trouble. I'd adopted the same strategy as so many of the fish around me, and I was aware of the potential irony, should I dig for it. I'd staked out my territory, my little hidey hole in the vast reaches of the coral, and when it was invaded, I defended it.

When someone swam overhead, I had to assume it was a Career. If it wasn't, I eliminated a treat that had to die eventually if I wanted to win. If it was, I couldn't afford not to attack. The Careers were hunting. If they were nearby, they would search every nook and cranny. They would find me, flush me out, and kill me. Attacking was my only hope, thin as it was.

I pushed off the coral behind me, launching myself above the coral and throwing my net. It billowed out gently, slowed by the resistance of the water. All the same, it coiled around the Tribute's feet, tangling them. The shards of coral dug into the boy's wetsuit but didn't penetrate it, and I cursed under my breath.

The boy whipped around, ready to fight. He held a spear, and I knew the tide had turned. He grabbed the net and yanked. The coral spurs I'd studded the net with were spaced widely, and he grabbed between them, avoiding the poison, unintentionally or not. I, of course, also held the net between them, but I was still yanked forward by his pull. He shoved his spear toward me as he pulled, sticking it into my chest. But it wasn't over. It was a shallow wound, slowed by the water just like my throw. It was when he stabbed me again that I started to lose hope.

 _I'm not going win this one,_ I realized flatly. With some clinical interest, I noticed that the second stab had punctured a lung. That wasn't fatal, necessarily. I could recover from that. It was the third stab that did me in. Blood gushed from my chest like a burst balloon, and its bright redness told me the boy had hit an artery. _Probably the aorta,_ I thought dimly. It led all down my chest, bringing blood all through my body. At least it did until a minute ago. Now it was all around me. The essence of my life, dissipating along with me.

* * *

 **I did this out of order, with Jerrimiah referencing cannons that haven't been written yet. That was just because I didn't want to do a cannons thing for two cannons.**

 **14th place: Iosefka Crow- Speared by Declan**

 **Iosefka's form mentioned it would be cool if she went insane from hiding a lot time. I totally would have done that, but with this Arena, the Games aren't going to last that long. It's gonna be like a week. I knew Iosefka had what it took to go a long way, so I didn't kill her, but I never really had a plan for her to win. It could have happened, but instead I kept her a respectable time and then killed her. She had a good thing going with the poison, and that IS something I should utilize more. It's just hard to use ranged weapons underwater. Sucks to have a sucky Arena. Thanks aceswims for a medical student I had the experience to write and someone who was realistically strong and had a reason to have those strengths.**


	38. Nice Quiet Chapter No Carnage Here

KODIAK ALWARD- Lyon Cartier

There wasn't going to be a grand breakup this year. We were trickling away little by little, in stupid accidents or sudden attacks. I was the only real Career left with the Fours now. I wasn't sure if they'd seen through Diamonique, but either way, they'd probably leave soon. They wouldn't make a scene, though. They didn't have to risk killing us. They had all the advantages.

* * *

Avariella Hanson- District Two mentor

Everyone loves the happy endings, like me. Most of us don't get one. We get thinner, and thinner, and our happy ending is when we die, because ashes weigh almost nothing at all. But I should be thinking of my own Tributes. Sometimes it was harder being a Career mentor. Every year, we had hope.

* * *

District Two

The Alwards never got their Victor. They joined dozens of other families whose children either didn't get picked or came home on their shields. They reminisced now and then, talking about what could have been, but never what was. Mercura Elliots remained sickly, recovering slightly but never regaining her health. The blessing in disguise was that she would never be expected to volunteer.

* * *

TOSHIBA BOLTWIRE- Delaney Rogers-Stone

I couldn't really judge, could I? I didn't know if I would have done the same thing. We all want to be heroes until it comes time to do hero things.

* * *

IOSEFKA QROW- Declan Malone

I hoped Micah never asked about it. I didn't want him to see me that way. Anything was worth it to see me again, but it broke my heart to imagine. If I did see him again, would he be afraid of me?

* * *

Gidget Ford- District Three mentor

It was all luck. I won because of luck. When the next Victor from Three won, it wouldn't be because of me. So I didn't take it as hard as some of us. I did my best, but all I could do was wait until the dice came up for me again.

* * *

DISTRICT THREE

It was the Ten girl that did it. She tried to lead them to Toshiba. She was the one that stirred up the shark. He would have gotten away if it wasn't for her. We all missed Iosefka. Her death left a slot open in the Capitol medical schools. It was filled by Asimov Diode. Determined to live up to the blessing she left him, he sent the Qrows a portion of his salary until he became one of the very few citizens of Three to retire.

* * *

Loki Saberhagen- District Seven male

The Arena could be summed up in a single moment. When I saw that the figure approaching me was a drifting body, I was relieved.

Thinking back to the first day in the Arena, I admitted it was a little funny. I knew the Gamemakers loved their "ironic" and "poetic" flourishes, like sending Tributes mutts based on their fears or deaths by their insecurities. _But I don't have to worry,_ I'd thought. _I'm not scared of dogs and fire and things like that. The only thing that scared me was when those bullies tried to drown me._

Well, seems I thought too soon.

After being thrown into an Arena that didn't contain my worst fear but _consisted_ of it, a drifting body was nothing to worry about. Dead men didn't chase you down and cut you up. The corpse was floating toward me because of tide, not intent.

It was a girl. I could tell because of the long, brown hair, fanned around her and moving in the currents like she was pulling herself along with thin, grasping tendrils. I knew how ghoulish it was to approach her, but there was no morality here. Only practicality.

I regretted it when I turned her over. Her face was mottled, lined with burst and seeping vessels. Her eyes were clouded and white, preserved under her mask. Exploring fish had knocked her rebreather loose around her neck, so her mouth hung open. It was bloated, and the tongue was missing.

I had approached her to see if there was something I could use. I didn't need another rebreather. Maybe I should have taken it in case mine broke, but if it broke it would be in a fight, and I wouldn't survive the fight without it. Even if I could have used it, I didn't know if I could stomach touching my lips to something that had touched that pink, torn mouth. What I _could_ use was the strap, which I cut off with the little folding knife I got at the Bloodbath.

 _There's something else I can use._

It was awful. I wondered if even the Gamemakers would allow it. But they hadn't said anything yet. The only one who ever went beneath even them was Titus, and I wasn't going to do what he did. But it didn't make me feel any less inhuman when I unfolded the knife and looked at that long, thick, ropelike hair.

* * *

Jerrimiah Cottle- District Ten male

"So what do you do for fun in an orphanage?" I asked Weaver as we tried to gut the fish we caught. It was probably sick, to be honest, with how slow it was swimming. _Oh well, hope it wasn't catching!_

"I liked to read. I had five books," Weaver said.

 _Wow, living the good life,_ I thought. I stopped myself before I said anything, though. It had occurred to me that maybe that _was_ Weaver's idea of the good life. Obviously he'd had it rougher than me.

"If you win the Games, I bet you can buy _ten_ books," I said.

Weaver smiled. "What if _you_ win?" he asked.

"Me? I'm gonna go to every District, and probably have a house in each," I said. "And I want a girl for _every_ day of the week." I grinned widely.

"That's more girls than I have books," Weaver said.

"They can have other boys, too. I'm not jealous," I said.

"I'd buy a house for Thatcher," Weaver said. He looked off at nothing. "He likes brick houses."

 _He's always on your mind, isn't he?_ I didn't mean that in a bad way, like 'You're such a drag! Live for yourself a little!' It was honestly inspiring how loyal Weaver was. I hardly even thought of my baby brother Joel. He really _was_ a baby brother- he was four months old. He was more like a sock than a person at that age. I never really thought about what he'd be like when he was older. _Wow. If I die, he'll never even know me._

"You've got a lot of responsibility for a kid," I said. "All I have to worry about is cows, and they're going to die anyway. That's the whole idea."

"Someone has to take care of him," Weaver shrugged.

 _Just like that. Like it's not even a big deal._ Maybe it was time for me to start acting as much a man as Weaver did. I'd always thought my actions didn't go that far past myself. Maybe they didn't go as far as Weaver's, but maybe I _could_ have an effect on things. I certainly knew that if I won, I was buying Thatcher as many brick houses as he wanted. And maybe there were other people I could help. My parents… Joel… Garrett… even just random people I didn't know. I wasn't just in this for myself. My whole District was rooting for me. I should start living up to them.

* * *

 **Psych.**


	39. Pearl

Diamonique Gemmin- District One female

Siren and Havelock were hunting. They'd gotten tired of us finding excuses to keep an eye on them, and with only two of us left, we _couldn't_ stop them if they decided to go. So they took off, swimming too fast for us to keep up. That left me and Lyon holding down the fort, which in our case was a roomy hole in the border of the coral reef.

"Guess one of these times they won't come back," I said.

"Oh well," he shrugged. "Better than fighting them."

"It's brave that you'll admit that," I said. "That you don't want to fight, I mean."

"The longer I stay here, the less I think of myself as a Career and the more I think of myself as just me," Lyon said.

There was a moment of silence. It begged to be filled, and I finally let out what I'd been holding in since the train rides.

"Why didn't you rat me out?" I asked.

"What, that you're not a Career?" Lyon asked. "It was stupid. You're going to win or lose based on your choices, not that."

"But I don't belong with you," I said.

"I'm tired of groups and cliques. You're not defined by your class. You're just who you are."

"It seems like you're not really like most Careers either," I said.

"Do not go where the path might lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail," Lyon said.

"Did you just make that up?" I asked, awed.

"No, it was Emerson. I read a lot of philosophy," Lyon said, and he smiled. "I know. Not what you'd expect from a guy who looks like a gorilla. But that's you. You didn't take the normal Career path, but it's _your_ path. I didn't want to get in the way."

"Panem… Panem will be worse off if you die," I said, gathering the courage to admit it.

"Same to you," Lyon said.

There was so much people took for granted. I never would have guessed Lyon was so wise, or seen things the way he did. I'd learned so much from him, and I almost wished I hadn't. Because in the end, he was trying to kill me, and I was trying to kill him. This didn't change that, but now we knew how much we were destroying.

* * *

Ambrosia Smith- District Eleven female

"Look, a whale!"

"I noticed."

I would have stuck my tongue out at Merry, but she wouldn't have seen it. My second plan was to splash her, but she was already in a perpetual state of splashiness, being underwater. So I just swam up next to the leviathan animal. It was one of those whales that eat little tiny fish, I could tell just by looking. I didn't see a hump, so it could have been a lot of whales. Just not a humpback.

 _We should tell Sam,_ I thought, but it was no use. He'd say something about building shelters or gathering food or some other job. He hadn't stopped working since we got here. It seemed he'd been even more industrious since Shelby died. I knew he was sad. He just didn't want us to see it. He was three years older than me, and he acted like our father. _Face it. We're probably all three going to die. So at least get out and enjoy the Arena._

I reached out and ran a hand down the whale's side. It was soft and stubbly, like a rubber turtle. When I swam up to the head, I saw its coconut-sized eye roll sideways and peer casually at me. I waved at it.

"Be careful," Merry said, coming up cautiously behind me.

"It eats krill," I said.

"It's just so big," she said.

I grabbed onto one of its huge flippers. The whale pulled me along like a horse, sliding through the water. When she saw it wasn't dangerous, Merry swam over the whale and grabbed its other flipper.

 _How many people can say they did this?_ I thought as I looked down at the coral beneath me. _I bet none of the_ Gamemakers _have even ridden a whale._

When we got a little bit away from our cave, I let go. It was dangerous to go too far, and the whale was heading toward open water. In the corner of my eye, I saw Merry dropping off her side.

 _All right, let's head back,_ I thought, and I turned around. Right into the whale's tail.

 _SMACK!_

* * *

Study Furado- District Five female

 _A conundrum befitting the greatest detective. What's Sherlock Holmes without Watson? Lonely._

Deductive reasoning and gut feelings led to the same conclusion. Point one: I wanted another ally. Point two: I wasn't going to find anyone in the rocky part of the Arena. Point three: the coral reef would have way more people. Conclusion: go to the coral reef. _Little gray cells, you did me good._

I kept a low profile on the reef, creeping between clumps of coral and outcropping of rock. Analysis and wit did little against Career attacks. It could _prevent_ them, but _opposing_ them wasn't as easy.

When I saw a Tribute, I hunkered down and ran some odds. I could reason that it wasn't a Career, because a Career wouldn't be seen. But I could also reason that it _was_ a Career, since only a Career would swim so openly. I let the figure get closer, looking for one final clue, and before long I had it. The figure was swimming slowly, and when it got within range, I saw its hands were bare. It wasn't wearing the webbed gloves the Careers took from the Cornucopia. I was safe.

"Hey!" I said, swimming up and into sight while I was far enough away that I wouldn't be a threat. "Excuse me!"

The figure stopped, reeling back comically in the water. It was the boy from Ten. Jerimiah or something like that?

"Hey! You're the detective girl, right?" he asked.

"One and the same," I said, wishing I could bow underwater. "I have a proposition."

"What is it?" Jerimiah asked.

"I think my skills might be of use to you. I can deduce, and analyze, and even concoct plans," I said.

"So you want to join our alliance?" Jerimiah asked, telling me he was still with Weaver.

"Precisely," I said.

"Okay. You didn't have to be all fancy about it," Jerimiah said.

...What? That's it?" I asked.

"I mean, we'll have to ask Weaver, but _I_ always welcome _ladies,"_ Jerimiah said, giving the impression of tipping his hat even though we were underwater.

 _Look who's talking about being fancy,_ I thought. _But then, where there is human nature, there is drama._

* * *

 **13 place: Ambrosia Smith- Neck broken by whale**

 **Inspired by this Reader's Digest story I read where a lady got clobbered by a whale and almost died. I had to break up the cute alliance eventually, and Merry has more prospects than Ambrosia. Ambrosia got a lot of love due to being so relatable. We all have trouble making conversations sometimes, or just have moments where we feel like everyone else speaks a different language. Ambrosia was realistic to the end and made the most of the life she had. Thanks Silver for always being willing to have your Tributes die to fend off accusations of nepotism.**

 **There's something in Study's form that requires an ally, so I paired her up. It's not nefarious, though. Weaver and Jerrimiah won't be negatively affected.**


	40. The Silence of the Lambs

AMBROSIA SMITH- Merry Cypress

No more playing. No laughing and swimming around the reef with my friends. I couldn't be like that anymore. I couldn't be happy and lighthearted. People were dying. My allies were dying around me. If I didn't win this, I'd die too.

* * *

Hlenn Rambutan- District Eleven mentor

Ambrosia was an odd duck. I'd been called the same myself. I knew she had as much chance as I did, and this time the odds came out like they usually did. Aedrick hardly said a word to me. I knew he saw his own odds clearly. Sometimes you have to be a little unrealistic. Otherwise you'll never believe you can win.

* * *

District Eleven

The Laquois family was the only time we were glad parents lost their son. They didn't value him. They'd treated him worse than the Arena. His only friend Haron had to do all the mourning on his own. Ambrosia's family quietly held each other up, while her classmates pretended they'd dearly loved her and crowded around her funeral, clamoring to make the most tragic fuss.

* * *

Havelock Grimm- District Four male

" _You can do it!"_

" _I bet a year's pay on you!"_

" _It's all you!"_

The notes came pouring in, most just messages but some coming with a little token or a packet of soup or something. Siren and I were the favorites. _I_ was the favorite. It was exciting and a little scary. I hadn't thought they still wanted me now that I was ugly. But they liked me all the same.

I wanted to make it up to them- all my fans. I wanted to prove they were right not to give up on me, and that I was more than a pretty face. All my life, I'd had people behind me. Everyone thought I was a shoo-in, just like Floki. But Floki didn't win, did he? Twice I watched my parents lose him, gaining and losing a chance to see the brother I'd barely known. I couldn't do that to them again. I couldn't break their hearts. No parent should have to bury two children.

 _How many people win the Games? One in a million. And I have to do it. I have to be one in a million. And I don't know if I can._

All my intentions didn't matter. The world didn't care how much I needed this, or how determined I was to spare my parents. In the world, there was only dead and alive. People who made it and people who didn't. I never had any illusions about the Games. I'd seen a strong, fearsome man go into the Arena, and my brother never came back out. Floki was as solid as an oak, and it wasn't enough. No matter how strong I was or how seriously I took it, trying to win the Games was like trying to swim through a tsunami.

 _But this is how every Victor feels._ With only a very few exceptions, Victors didn't think they'd make it, either. Even Careers knew the odds, and would just rather die young and bravely than old and ashamed. SOmeone was going to win, even though the odds against it were so great. And it was true that preparation increased the odds.

 _Sometime, things have to go right for us._ We'd lost Floki three times. We fell on hard times in the fishing business, which was why I'd ever started training. The mayor came after me and forced me into this mess. I got attacked and scarred. Bad luck didn't last forever. Someday, the gods had to favor us. We honored them, and we lived honorable lives. I was going to win this on my own, but I still wanted to know they were with me. It seemed everyone in Panem was, thought that didn't make a difference. I was the only one who might win, and I was the only one that might die.

* * *

Sam Wilson- District Twelve male

The fabric of my wetsuit was tight against my heaving chest. I was bent over the little shovel I used to excavate our cave, gripping it with white fingers.

"Sam? What's wrong?"

Merry was behind me. She swam around alongside me, sitting next to me.

"I thought you were sleeping," I said. I went to wipe my eyes, wishing the mask didn't make it so clear I was crying, and my hand thudded off the plastic.

"You're crying," Merry said, her face tilted up at mine.

"It's nothing," I said, looking away.

"It's Ambrosia, isn't it?" Merry asked.

 _And Shelby. All of them,_ I thought.

"I couldn't keep her safe," I said. All my life, my problems could be solved by doubling down and working harder. If I was hungry, I worked to distract myself. If there were problems at home, I took an extra shift. Whatever was wrong in my life, I could bury it or forget it in the mines.

"It wasn't your job," Merry said.

"I'm the oldest," I said.

"That doesn't matter. You can't take responsibility for everything. We're our own people, and we have to do this ourselves. We're all trying to do the same thing," Merry said.

"What good am I if I can't provide?" I asked. I knew Merry was right, but what did that matter? I wasn't crying because I failed. I was crying because Shelby and Ambrosia were dead. _I miss them so much._

"You're good because you're a person, just like Shelby and Ambrosia," Merry said. "It's hard. I know. But we'll get through this. Maybe we'll die, but until then, we'll keep trying."

"It's so hard," I said softly.

"I don't think you've ever had it easy," Merry said. "I hope if you win, you can be happy."

 _That's what Ambrosia and Shelby would say._ People talk about doing things in someone's memory. It always struck me as vain conceit. A dead person didn't care what you did. They were doing it for themselves and trying to make it mean something. Shelby and Ambrosia were gone forever. If I won, I would always carry that sadness with me. But that incomplete happiness was all I could hope for, just like Merry. That was what we had to work toward, until the very end.

* * *

Diamonique Gemmin- District One female

Jaydalin was back. Not a ghost or a muttation. Just a floating body, recognizable by how tall she was. Her arms were out to her sides, bent gently in perverse cruciform. Cold horror and revulsion swirled in my stomach. There was something primally repulsive about a corpse. Whether it was the possible contagion or the reminder of mortality, I wasn't sure. Lyon probably could have told me. But I pushed it aside, because this was the Games, and I would grasp at any straw that gave me a chance.

It was the rebreather I was after. Mine might possibly break, or Siren or Havelock might even sabotage it. The last thing, the absolute last thing I wanted, was to thrash around underwater, vainly beating at the water that pushed its way down my throat. Or maybe I could find another use for it. It was just a good thing to have.

I shut my eyes as I approached Jaydalin. She was floating facedown, and I couldn't bear the thought of her face. _Is her mask intact? Please let it be intact. Don't let the fish eat her eyes. Ghastly white sockets, ringed with shreds of flesh. Minnows swimming in and out._

When I opened my eyes, her sockets weren't empty. I was right against her face, looking at two living eyes. But not Jaydalin's gray-blue ones. These were cat-green eyes, moving and animated as they looked back at me.

The arm shot sideways, the tiny blade in the hand sticking deep into my throat. As I reeled back, water rushing down into my severed throat, I saw the ragged, pink seam across the forehead. _Loki's_ forehead, hiding under Jaydalin's thick, waist-length hair.

* * *

 **12th place: Diamonique Gemmin- Throat slashed by Loki**

 **Diamonique was submitted as a possible Bloodbath, since she was a lackluster Career. I liked how she saw her own shallowness and worked to better herself, so I kept her. I almost killed her in the shark chapter, since I'd wanted a dramatic multi-Career death chapter, but I still liked her, so I didn't. I finally did it here just because it was going to happen sometime. Diamonique lasted this long, against seasoned Careers, because she had something almost no Career does: humility. She knew she was in over her head and was accordingly super cautious. So thanks JAJ for a humble Career who acknowledged her faults and made herself better.**


	41. Natural Jelly From a Natural Jellyfish

DIAMONIQUE GEMMIN- Lyon Cartier

 _When? How?_

I'd just seen her. We were just talking, talking about wonderfully deep things. How did it happen? I knew the most likely truth, though I didn't admit it. When Havelock and Siren came back, would I see it in their eyes? Would they even deny it? If they came back, the most likely truth was they were coming for me.

* * *

Delaney Rogers-Stone- District Ten female

Was it weird that I was happier in the Arena than at home?

I missed my allies, sure, and watching them die left damage. But aside from that, the Arena was gorgeous. It couldn't have been a more complete break from my old life. My family and all the pressures and expectations they had were a universe away. One way or another, I was never going to have to deal with the marriage thing again.

It was dark in the ocean. Only one person had died: Diamonique. I was surprised at how few Careers were left, but three was enough. Of course the Fours were left. One of them would probably win. But probability didn't determine the future, only assess the odds. _Probably_ one of them would win. But any of us could be the one that _did_ win.

I sat on the far end of the Arena, looking down into a dropoff that went on to unfathomable depths. It felt a little like I was tempting fate. Surely any second I'd see some horribly large, toothy creature rocketing up at me. But I knew I was just being paranoid, even by Arena standards. When I did see something in the blackness, it was a tiny light.

 _Nope,_ I thought, and I moved back. A little light was _way_ more ominous than a giant shark. It was only a tiny pinprick, and it was moving slowly, but I wasn't falling for it. I pulled myself back between some coral, peeking out cautiously at the light.

By the time I looked back out, others had joined it. Five lights, then ten, then dozens of them, gaining size as they floated toward me. They were soft blue lights, illuminating themselves so i could see translucent frames with lines of lights around their edges.

 _They're jellyfish._ I'd heard of glowing fish that lived way down on the bottom. Some were hunters, but jellyfish were just… jellyfish. As long as I didn't touch them, they were safe.

The jellyfish continued their upward journey, until they reached the coral reef. Like a blinking neon sign, they lit the dark water, pulsing softly. They spread out in front of me, casting shadows behind me and backlighting my hand when I held it in front of them. The sea stretched on forever behind them, fading from pale blue to midnight purple in ombre rays. Everything was silent, since there was no sound to accompany this.

 _This is the most beautiful thing I will ever see._ I knew it was true. Nothing could surpass that.

When I felt the sharp pain in my chest, my first thought was that I hadn't been paranoid _enough,_ that the jellyfish had somehow killed me without even touching me. Then I thought some fish or sea creature had bitten me. When I felt at the spot, bending my arm across my chest, my fingers hit sharp metal.

I turned my head to look behind me. Siren was perhaps twenty feet behind me. I had no idea how she threw a trident that far.

 _It doesn't matter._ I wasn't going home anymore. I turned my head back and looked at the most beautiful thing I would ever see.

* * *

Siren Kaecko- District Four female

Other than Havelock and Lyon, the major competition was gone. That _didn't_ mean I could get complacent, though. It only meant I breathed a little bit easier. I didn't look forward to fighting them, but if I outlasted those two, nothing should stop me from winning.

 _It will be weird if I'm a Victor._ I'd always just been a normal teen. I fished, I went to school, I swam… normal stuff. In a few days, I might be a celebrity. I'd be thrust into a world of galas and appearances and riches. I'd never be a kid again. They say if you're rich you find out who your real friends are. I imagined hordes of schoolmates or faint acquaintances swarming into my life, talking about what good friends we were and how they just needed a _little_ money. I'd never know if people actually liked me just for me.

But it was worth it, of course.

I heard a funny little tinkling noise and looked up. _What's this?_ I wondered. _I don't really need anything._ I chuckled when I saw the sponsor gift. There was no parachute, for obvious reasons. Instead there was a little anchor pulling the gift down to me. I tucked the anchor into my neckband after I snagged the gift. You never know when an anchor might come in handy.

I cocked my head quizzically when I opened the box. Inside was a funny-looking tube thing. I plucked out the laminated paper wrapped around it.

 _Compressed air. Place trident into slot. Pull trigger._

I laughed again. It seemed allowances were being made in the Capitol. Usually technology wasn't allowed in sponsor gifts, aside from some components for the Threes. I loaded in my trident and aimed straight out into the water. The trident shot out, landing in about the same spot where it would have gone had I thrown it. _Clever._ Practical heads prevailed. The compressed air wasn't an unfair advantage, just a check and balance.

I had to hunt all day to find someone to test it on. When I finally ran across a Tribute, it was night-time. I wouldn't even have seen her if it wasn't for the light show. There must have been hundreds of comb jellies, up far shallower than they naturally lived. They were shaped almost like conch shells, and they radiated diaphonous light. Delaney was reaching out to them, her hair a feathered backlit corona. Even as I pulled the trigger, I marveled.

 _This is the most beautiful thing I will ever see._

* * *

 **Just two POVs this time. Two perspectives on one event.**

 **11th place: Delaney Rogers-Stone- Impaled by Siren**

 **Delaney had a weird family, but she was pretty normal. She went into the Games with normal fears and hopes, and she went out the way most people do- someone just killed them. She and Carmelle surely would have bonded more if Carmelle hadn't died so early. Toshiba was more selfish, but Delaney outlasted him and moved on. She never had much chance, and she made it as long as she could. Thanks MRKenn for a normal girl with relatable thoughts and dreams.**


	42. But That Does Not Make You A Superhero

Jerrimiah Cottle- District Ten male

Study was a weird bird. Almost literally, since she kept talking about ravens and stuff. I couldn't imagine how she and Wit met. He seemed like a normal kid.

We were five days into the Games, and already they were more than half over. The Capitolites were going to be disappointed when their spectacle lasted less than two weeks. Life must be hard for them.

"Oh!" Weaver said suddenly. My head snapped sideways. I expected to see the Careers approaching, but actually, I couldn't see anything. A cloud of ink blocked my vision, and above it, I saw a little octopus swimming away.

"You're so clumsy!" Study said. "Now they'll know where we are, you dummy." Weaver's face fell.

"What the hell, Study?" I demanded. "Were you raised in a barn?"

"What?" she asked, seemingly confused on why I was upset.

"Why would you say something like that? That's so mean. If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all," I said.

"Oh," Study said, and she looked away thoughtfully.

"I didn't see it," Weaver said, looking at me guiltily.

"It's not your fault. It's just an octopus," I said. I turned to Study. "Look how sad you made him."

"I guess I didn't think about it," Study said, looking more closely at Weaver. "I'm sorry," she said to him.

"It's okay. We're all jumpy in here," Weaver said.

After that, I caught Study staring at me and Weaver throughout the day. It wasn't weird or vengeful. She seemed to be studying us- trying to figure out how normal friends interacted. It was kind of sweet, in a weird way. What kind of person honestly didn't know that yelling at someone and insulting them would hurt their feelings? Maybe she _was_ raised in a barn. Well, at least she was trying to move into the house with the rest of us.

* * *

Merry Cypress- District Seven male

I could actually do this. When I came into the Games, I thought it was a given that I would die. I was going to try and all that, but I was focused on how long I could last, not whether I could actually win. I was starting to see that was a possibility, and it was scary. Having given up hope, it was scary to have that little spark kindle again. There was nothing to lose when you didn't think anything was possible. Admitting that I might win brought with it the possibility that I could be wrong.

Together, me and Sam were one of the more powerful alliances. Sam didn't seem much different than a normal Tribute when we met, but in his wetsuit, I could see he was jacked. Mining was hard work, and his muscles testified to it. He hacked a cave out of solid rock with a shovel. It had seemed so impressive, and it _was,_ but when I thought about it, that was literally his job. He did that every day.

I never thought I would be where I was. Back home, I thought about things like climbing trees and playing music with my friends. When I got back, I didn't know if they'd even recognize me. I was going to seem so much older. I already _felt_ older. Being with Shelby and Ambrosia seemed like years ago. I was regretfully aware that I wasn't going to have friends like that anymore. Once you've been through what I had, you couldn't relate to people your age, facing the problems you used to face.

I only caught a single fish before I headed back to Sam. I wasn't worried, though. I'd try again soon, and if I couldn't find anything, I'd eat something else. Seaweed, or coral if I had to. I'd find a way. I was becoming a survivor.

I saw the blood spiraling up before I saw Sam. As I rushed closer, I saw him grappling with Siren, her trident sticking out of his leg. She was bleeding, too, but only a little, from her nose. They both had their backs to me, and it stayed that way all until I reached them.

* * *

Sam Wilson- District Twelve male

Maybe it was the current. Maybe an errant piece of seaweed got in the way. Whatever the reason, Siren's trident hit my leg instead of my chest. I couldn't outswim her, not even at my best, so as she came to retrieve it and finish the job, I squared up for a fight.

With how fast Siren was coming, I only had a minute to make my plan. If I tore out the spear, I would start bleeding heavily. I would be weak before log and maybe dead before Siren could kill me. If I left it in, she would definitely try to reclaim it. But that was a possibility, while blood loss was a certainty. I picked up my shovel and let her come try.

Siren went for my rebreather instead of her trident. I swatted her hand away with my shovel, cutting her fingers. She wrapped her legs around my waist, anchoring herself so she could get more power in her blows. I fell forward, and she unlatched herself before she got pinned to the ground. It was then she yanked at the trident. I gasped as the spikes tore at my flesh, the barbs slowing her down as they stuck in me. I pushed my shovel at her face, cracking her mask and hitting her nose hard enough to draw blood.

I didn't even see Merry coming. Out of nowhere she was suddenly there, hitting Siren in the back of the head with a rock. Underwater, she didn't have the momentum for a serious blow. It just knocked Siren forward. She whipped around, ready to assess and eliminate the threat. Merry grabbed her in a bear hug, limiting her use of her arms. I gripped the collar of her wetsuit and yanked her flat on the ground. She got an arm loose and started pummeling Merry's face, clawing at her mask and rebreather. She tore the rebreather loose. Merry held on anyway, holding her breath.

I knew I only had a tiny window. Merry was risking everything to buy me a chance. I was holding Siren down with a foot on her shoulder, but Merry was taking the brunt of her wrath. Siren was already trying to hook her fingers into Merry's eyes. In seconds she'd free her other arm, wrap herself around Merry, and break her neck. Merry was desperately hoping I had a plan. And I did.

I braced my side against the rock wall outside our shelter, giving me something to push against. I brought the shovel down on Siren's throat. I couldn't generate enough arm strength to push against the water and penetrate the skin. So I put my other foot, the one with the trident through it, onto the shovel. I took my foot off Siren's shoulder, hooked it under a rock for stability, and pushed off the wall as I yanked up on the rock, pulling my weight down and into the shovel. It crunched into Siren's neck, and I felt the force as it bounced off the cartilage in her throat. She started to cough as she surged up, free from my foot. Before she could get up all the way, I stomped again. The second blow ruptured her windpipe and ground against her vertebrae, sending blood and bubbles clouding up. She was still thrashing, so I gave one final stomp. I felt bone crunch and give away, and then the resistance stopped and the shovel slid into soft sand. Siren's head bounced up from the force, hitting Merry in the chest. When she reeled back and shot her legs out to push back, it landed almost neatly in her lap.

* * *

Siren Kaecko- District Four female

Talk about fighting dirty. Someone came out of nowhere and conked me in the back of the head with a rock! But that's war.

Sam was stronger than I expected. I'd known he was muscular, but he was really giving me a good fight. As soon as I got my trident it would be all over, but then Merry showed up. It just a few seconds I'd break her hold on me. She'd be busy trying not to drown, and I'd kill Sam and then come back for her.

Then the shovel hit my throat. I felt my skin split and the soft tissue underneath bruise.

 _Oh no. I am_ not _getting killed by a shovel._ I arched my back, throwing Merry off-balance. The pressure on my shoulder eased, and I started to get up. Then the shovel hit again.

 _Wow. I actually am getting killed by a shovel._ It was kind of funny, I had to admit. Kudos to Sam and Merry. They really pulled it off. And I could say I died hard. That's the way Careers roll. We live hard or we die hard. Even if I did die fighting a shovel.

* * *

 **SHOCKING SWERVE. Just thought I'd shake things up and do something totally unexpected. I started this chapter with the intent to have Sam die by unknowingly eating a poisonous fish. But then I looked into his form and noticed how strong he was, and how little Tribute on Tribute action there's been. Seriously, like five Tributes since the Bloodbath have actually died by Tribute.**

 **10th place: Siren Kaecko- beheaded by Sam and his shovel**

 **Siren was a possible Victor. There was no flaw or failing that made me not pick her. I just picked another possibility. Siren was doing the lion's work of the killing, but she definitely wasn't a villain. She was just a Career. She chose a perilous career, knowing the odds, and they caught up with her. Her submitter asked for her head to land in someone's lap. Know how hard it is for that to happen underwater? Why would someone even be sitting normally underwater? This was not easy to devise. But Siren was cool, so she deserved the effort. She was the favorite for a long time, and it took two Tributes and a surprise attack to do her in. She might very well get one more kill, since it can't be sanitary to have a seeping wound underwater, plus sharks and all. Thanks tinks for another ACTUAL strong female character. Shoutout to our man tinks for being better than the entirety of Hollywood at writing female characters.**

 **This death is brought to you in part by the Marine Corps. We use these little foldable shovels to dig foxholes, and we get specific training on how to use them as weapons.**

 **Hey everybody XxIsabeline de las MercedesxX has a new SYOT up called Innocent Youth: The 150th Hunger Games**


	43. 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea

SIREN KAECKO- Havelock Grimm

 _No way._

I looked at Lyon, who looked back at me, mirroring my surprise.

"It wasn't me," he said.

"It wasn't me," I said.

"So who did it?" I asked.

"A mutt, maybe?" Lyon said. " _Maybe_ Sam. He's pretty big."

"Do we have to fight now? I don't want to fight," I said.

"Me neither. Tell you the truth, I'm scared," Lyon said.

"You too? That makes me feel better," I said.

"We could just split up," Lyon said. "Like, I'll go that way and you go that way." He pointed in two opposite directions.

"I think that's best," I said, and I started to go. I looked over my shoulder as I went. "Lyon? Good luck. Maybe we'll meet again. I hope not."

"You too. And whatever got Siren… I hope we don't meet that either," Lyon said.

* * *

DELANEY ROGERS-STONE- Jerrimiah Weaver

 _Oh no._

There was a sad little dip in my heart when I saw her. She was a nice girl. I would have liked to know her better. I'd barely seen her, but I missed her all the same.

* * *

Weaver Twill- District Eight male

The water had a greenish cast. It was hard to tell through the thick glass, but I imagined the sky must be overcast. It gave everything a colorful tint, and it made the water seem a little dirtier.

I hoped the Games didn't last much longer. My skin was constantly pruned, of course, but it was starting to get worse. I'd heard about what happened in the Games where the Arena was a swamp. The Tributes' skin started to get waterlogged, and then their skin started sloughing off. It was like they were rotting while they were still alive. I think some of them even grew mold.

My skin wasn't that bad, but it was starting to worry me. There were red patches on the backs of my hands. They didn't hurt yet, but they were starting to feel fragile. I had to remind myself not to pick at my fingers, because if I did, the skin on the edge of my nails sort of smeared off, like an old scab. It didn't go far, but it would only get worse. I could already foresee layers of skin slipping off. I would roll up the sleeve of my wetsuit, and the skin would come with it.

For all its gloominess, the day was nicely peaceful. I still felt like there was no way I'd actually win, but I was doing pretty well for myself. I'd surprised myself this far. Maybe I'd go all the way until the end.

I sat down on a rock, taking a breather from looking for fish and seaweed. Jerrimiah was at our shelter trying to twist together a net from seaweed, and Study was trying to apply deductive reasoning to the process while at the same time trying to stop Jerrimmiah from impatiently ripping the thing to shreds. She really was trying to be a better friend. She reminded me of a dog that wasn't housebroken yet. She wasn't bad, she just honestly didn't know better.

The rock shifted underneath me. As I sat up, it split apart. Eight sections broke off, lengthening as they wrapped around me. It shifted in color from gray to brilliant blue, and I saw I'd been hoodwinked. Octopuses really were as good at camouflage as they say.

"Jerrimiah!"

* * *

Jerrimiah Cottle- District Ten male

"Jerrimiah! Jerrimiah!"

 _Weaver._

He wasn't far. He was still yelling as I swam, which was a good sign. I was expecting the worst, and the octopus wasn't far off. Six of its tentacles were wrapped around Weaver like a cocoon. The other two were splayed out for balance, showing that it was about twenty feet across.

"Hang on!" I said, plunging toward the beast.

"No! It'll get you, too!" Study yelled from behind me. "Jerrimiah! We have to go!"

"I'm not leaving my friend!" I yelled. I reached the octopus and grabbed one of the tentacles, trying to unwrap it from Weaver. It was like a giant snake, all coiling muscles and rippling strength. When I couldn't unwrap it, I picked up a rock and started bashing it.

One of the tentacles slid off Weaver and grabbed me around my chest. It was like being hugged by a gorilla. I knew it had the strength to crush me, and I could only hope I got Weaver out before that happened.

Another tentacle grabbed me, this one by the stomach. They started to pull apart and I realized I was about to be ripped it half. I frantically tore at the tentacles, knowing it was hopeless.

Suddenly, the pressure eased. One of the tentacles released me entirely and the other shuddered. _What was that?_ I wondered. I turned my head and saw Study stabbing the octopus in the eye with a broken stick of coral.

* * *

Study Furado- District Five female

I didn't understand it. Jerrimiah _knew_ he would die if he went in there. So why'd he do it? Why didn't he even think about it?

 _He won't leave his friend._ It was all clear then. That was what being a friend meant. When you say 'that's just what friends do', this is what it means. It means when you make a decision, you think about what it means for someone else, not yourself. It was what Wit did for me since the day we met. _I want to be a friend._ I broke off a chunk of coral and stabbed the octopus in the eye.

The octopus shot out ink, making the water pitch-black around us, which struck me as a little dramatic. _Really?_ You _feel threatened?_ I stabbed it in the other eye, and it shot backwards in the water. The six tentacles around Weaver released him to deal with me, and he swam beside Jerrimiah, trying to untangle him.

One of the tentacles shot toward Weaver, trying to reclaim him. Jerrimmiah bashed it with his rock and it changed course, grabbing his hand. With one tentacle still around his stomach, it yanked the other. The skin on Jerrimmiah's wrist tore, and then his hand was pulled off like the top of a party popper, leaving streams of dangling nerves and blood vessels dangling. His blood mingled with the ink, turning the water maroon.

"No!" Weaver yelled, tearing at the tentacle around Jerrimiah's stomach. Jerrimiah cocked his leg back and kicked Weaver in the chest, propelling him back and out of the octopus' reach.

I yanked my coral stick free and aimed at the octopus' other eye. Then a tentacle wrapped around my neck like an anaconda. It squeezed until I thought my head would burst like a grape. I was past worrying about breathing. I was only worried about it snapping my spinal cord like a straw. I knew it was hopeless to try to pull it off, so I bore down and stabbed it in the eye again. My last blow popped its eye, fluid and jelly gushing around my stick. The tentacles went slack and the octopus' body smashed against mine as it shot up, fanning its tentacles above us and swimming swiftly out of sight.

I tried to suck in a breath, but that ship had sailed. The air stopped in my mouth, unable to get past the shattered, collapsed flesh of my throat. I settled to the ocean floor, sputtering and grasping at my throat. Above me, I saw Jerrimiah drifting down, his back arched and his hand flooding blood.

"Don't go," I heard Weaver's voice from far away. "You guys are my friends." And that made it all worthwhile.

* * *

Jerrimmiah Cottle- District Ten male

I always wanted to have a big adventure. I wanted to teach a bunch of fatherless boys how to herd cattle, or rescue a fair maiden from a lecherous bandit, or hunt down the man who killed my father. I was glad with how it all turned out, and I only hoped Weaver didn't blame himself. But I could see the humor in it. I had to think of that first one. The one where the cowboy _died_ in the end.

* * *

 **Yeah, yeah, I know it was a squid.**

 **9th place: Jerrimiah Cottle- bled to death, slain by an octopus**

 **Jerrimiah had a lot of hidden depths. He was a fun-loving, easygoing guy, but he was also a good friend, able to learn and acknowledge his immaturity, and a standup guy when someone needed him. He was emotionally intelligent and unafraid to admit he had feelings, and he wasn't ashamed of being empathetic. I'm not going to get all political, but this is the masculinity we need. Jerrimiah could show Study how to handle her emotions healthily, and he could also fight an octopus. So thanks Liamml for a guy I would genuinely have liked to know in real life. Also thanks for having a username that sounds like "Limahl" so every time I read it I get the Neverending Story theme in my head.**

 **8th place: Study Furado- throat crushed by octopus**

 **Study was insanely complex. Her form was super long (not bad or anything, just a note) and I didn't get half of it into the story. I did the most I could and kind of conveyed a condensed version of her. A lot of people are afraid to send in actually flawed characters, but Study went right for it. She was the product of abuse and didn't get over it entirely, though she was making strides. That's more realistic than I want to admit. So thanks Sparkaleah for two interlocking Tributes who showed different types of abuse and their repercussions.**


	44. Red Dot On Chest

STUDY FURADO

JERRIMIAH COTTLE- Weaver Twill

My friends were dead. They died for me. I'd never felt important before. I never felt like I mattered at all. Two people thought I was valuable enough to die for. It scared me. It awed me to imagine myself so cherished. To think that someone could care for me the way I cared for Thatcher... I didn't know how to handle it. Jerrimiah was the bravest, best friend I ever had. Study had known nothing but hurt and hate all her life, and she still did what she did. I could live a thousand lives and never deserve their sacrifice.

* * *

Declan Malone- District Nine male

The Arena was doing things to me. Physically, the change was obvious. My skin was pale and wrinkled, and it smudged off my body It sort of wrinkled off, like when you wipe your hand over a paper and little eraser smudgings slide off. I had an uneasy fear that soon, I would go to pick something up and my fingernails would just peel off like waterlogged bread.

 _This has to end soon._ If it had to be that way, I'd do it myself. It broke my heart to do things I knew my son wouldn't be proud of, but I'd made peace with it. Those things didn't matter. It was the way things had to be. When I got back to him, I knew he would know that no matter what I did, I loved him more than anything. It made me willing to do things I would never have considered otherwise. The Arena was making me into itself. My body was turning to water, and my mind was turning to savagery.

I swam restlessly, looking for someone and scared that I might actually find them. There were five other people in the Arena with me. Two of them I wouldn't even feel guilty if I killed. Lyon and Havelock asked for this, and they had no one to blame but themselves. Loki was one creepy customer, so that wouldn't keep me up at night either. Sam was strong enough to defend himself. That only left one.

It had to be Merry I saw. She was lying on her stomach, reaching into a crack in the coral. She didn't see me, and she was focusing too much to notice as I came closer.

 _Are you really going to do this?_ I asked myself. But what choice was there? I couldn't do anything else. It was the paradox of being a parent. Every one of us would do anything to save our children, even kill the other parents'. When I reached Merry, I curled my fingers into her flowing hair and shoved.

* * *

Merry Cypress- District Seven female

My head was shoved forward suddenly. My forehead bounced off the hard coral shelf I was lying on, sharp edges grinding into my skin. I blinked in confusion, my ears ringing and my head spinning.

 _Did I just get attacked?_ I didn't even know what was going on. I started to turn over. My hair was yanked suddenly, and I was dragged backward, my back arching and my arms flailing out. I painfully twisted my torso around and saw Declan holding a fistful of my hair.

 _You…_ I never would have thought. He was a father, right? This wasn't how fathers acted. He got it all twisted up. He was so worried about getting back to his boy that he was trying to kill someone else's girl.

 _Not this girl._

A few days ago, I might have panicked. Or maybe I would have been so surprised I laid down and died. But I'd changed. I'd seen death and I'd tasted hope. Declan was a grown man trying to kill a little girl, but it wasn't going to be easy.

I cocked my leg up awkwardly behind me and kicked it out, hitting Declan right between the legs. He let go of my hair and reeled back. I twisted my body as I drove my elbow around at him, hitting him in the nose. His head snapped back and blood pooled in his mask. He grabbed the top of my head and shoved my face down, lifting up his knee to hit me in the face. White lights burst in the corners of my eyes, but I shook them off. I grabbed on to his leg and used the position to exploit the same vulnerability as before. I shot out an open fist, grabbed a handful of soft, squishy flesh, and twisted with all my strength.

Above me, I heard Declan's anguished inhaled shriek. It spiraled up into a whimpering gasp, and his whole body spasmed. I dug my fingers in harder, feeling my fingernails denting the fabric of his wetsuit. He clamped his legs together, then frantically grabbed my face with an open hand and shoved me away. He bent my torso back, and I saw the broken coral spear just in time. I craned myself back even harder, so the spear hit the right side of my chest instead of my throat. Even so, it punched deep into my flesh, little shards scraping off inside me.

 _It's going to take more than that._ I pulled myself closer with both hands on the spear, then started pummeling Declan all up and down his front. He hit back, only his hand on the spear stopping us from pushing each other away. We were both taking damage, though I knew Declan was going to come out on top, what with the blood bubbling up my throat and the funny empty feeling in my chest. We settled to the ocean floor, him on top and both of us still punching. Then his weight was gone, and Sam was standing over me.

* * *

Declan Malone- District Nine male

Appropriate, wasn't it? After sneaking up on Merry, someone snuck up on me. From the strength of the arm crooked around my neck, it had to be Sam. Face to face, it would have been a fight to remember. As it was, he was crushing the breath and blood out of my brain, and underwater, it was impossible to get the momentum to break free. Within seconds, my vision was starting to go fuzzy

My mind filled with my son's face- his beautiful, perfect face. I thought of how this must look to Micah, screaming at the man to stop hurting his daddy. My heart ached when I did. Sam looked to him just like I looked to Merry's father.

* * *

Merry Cypress- District Seven female

Declan's cannon came so fast. Sam must have broken his neck. He knelt by me as I lay prone on the ocean floor, trying to breathe. Something was wrong with me. My lungs wouldn't fill up.

"Did I win?" I joked, each word interrupted by gasping stutters.

"Definitely," Sam said, and I could see his sad smile even under his mask. "Just don't move, okay? We need to fix this."

"Oh, you have an extra lung?" I wheezed. "That's lucky." The taste of my blood lingered at the back of my mouth. I coughed, and more blood sprayed up, hitting my rebreather and burning in my windpipe.

"We need to fix this. We need to fix this." Sam kept talking to himself, looking around the sand as though he would find a surgeon hidden among the rocks.

"Sam. You can't fix this," I whispered. Declan's spear was still in my chest, puncturing organs and leaking blood into my lungs. Every breath hitched in more fluid, flooding my insides and rising up my throat. My chest twitched with each inhale. I was drowning. I had a rebreather, and I was still drowning.

Sam was crying. It should have scared me, but I felt honored. I was honored to have known him, and to know he cared about me so much.

"It's okay," I said, forcing each hitching syllable past my breathless lips. "It doesn't hurt."

I wasn't lying. Drowning was a peaceful way to die, and I didn't even feel that. Shock dulled everything to a quiet drone. Sunlight danced above me, flickering across Sam. The warm water pressed down on my like a blanket, and Sam's hand held onto mine. I couldn't speak anymore past the blood filling my throat, but I didn't need to. I closed my eyes and let my labored breathing stop.

* * *

 **7th place: Declan Malone- blood choke by Sam**

 **Sam didn't specifically mean to execute a blood choke. There's just a lot of arteries in that area and it can happen easily. Honestly, I think I failed Declan. He had such an amazing story, with his son and with his dark past and growth past it. He didn't get as much screentime or development as he should have, and that was my fault. He was a possible Victor from the start. I picked someone else because I saw a story developing, but I regretted having to kill Declan. I don't get many fathers, and they're super interesting to me. His form said that he might start to decay in the Arena. When I knew I was going to kill him, I started down that path. Otherwise we all know I always tend toward upward character arcs, and I never would have chosen a father to be the one that goes bad. He wasn't really bad, though, just desperate. Thanks Primaryfocus for a noble, selfless father pushed into unspeakable things by the Capitol.**

 **6th place: Merry Cypress- Blood loss, shock, and hypoxia from sucking chest wound**

 **Merry got stronger and stronger the longer she was in the Arena. She recovered from losing her allies and matured into a real survivor. Declan would have killed her if Sam hadn't appeared, but she fought like a tiger. Declan was six and a half feet tall and loaded with muscles. Merry was a fourteen-year-old girl. But she made him earn it. She went for the weak spots and pulled no punches. Had Declan won, Micah definitely would have been an only child. You don't see many explicit groin attacks in SYOTs. Merry saw her opening and went full speed ahead. Thanks NyantodaMax for Merry. She started as a typical sweet girl and was forged by the Arena into a true fighter.**

 **Five left and they're all males. Haven't seen that since the first Resurrection Games. It wasn't planned, though. It just turned out that way. The next few chapters will be slower as I give the survivors more screentime to develop them and make sure people actually care about the Victor. I've been moving pretty fast in this story.**


	45. Smooth Sailing

MERRY CYPRESS- Sam Wilson

There was nothing left for me to lose. Just like at home, I could plunge down into dangerous depths, worrying about nothing but myself. There was nothing left but the task at hand, and I would see it through until the end. And my friend Merry, who had the heart and the strength to win it all… I wished she could be there with me.

* * *

DECLAN MALONE- Lyon Cartier

I hadn't been looking forward to fighting Declan. I was strong, but so was he. I was stronger, but weaker men still won fights. Empty bravado bought a Career only a coffin.

* * *

Erwin Jacobs- District Five mentor

Study and Wit were both incomprehensible. From their bizarre names to their obsessions with ravens, I had no idea what to expect at any moment. I couldn't have predicted either of their placements, and once they were gone, I could only try to parse out their logic.

* * *

District Five

It was the ones that deserved comfort that suffered, and the one that deserved suffering got nothing at all. Study's mother, the one that turned her into what she was, barely noticed her daughter's death. She'd never loved the child anyway, and her death meant only a quieter home and more money to spend on herself. Wit's parents, two humble people who never hurt anyone, did all the mourning.

* * *

Bambi Kirkland- District Ten mentor

They had so much to give to the world. Delaney and Jerrimiah made Panem a brighter place. They were good, kind children. They left family and friends bereft, and that was the right word. They were _bereft,_ having lost something of great value.

* * *

District Ten

Kids all over Ten talked about how brave and cool Jerrimmiah was, which was exactly the legacy he would have wanted. They staged mock octopus fights and acted out his valiant death, which he would have thought was a little morbid but flattering. Delaney's parents never understood the utter lunacy of what they were doing. However, other people in the District weren't so dense. Facing massive disapproval and shunning from the Ten folk, Oliver elected to remain a lifelong bachelor.

* * *

Loki Saberhagen- District Seven male

I had become the stuff of legends- the living corpse, or the beast that mimics the cries of a child. A girl's dead skin was draped over mine, and her ghost's hair bloomed around me. If I won, I wouldn't be celebrated. I would be dreaded.

And yet, it wasn't the first time. As Havelock would surely confirm, Norse legends were absolutely insane. They were even worse than the Greeks. My ancestors would not at all be surprised to see a man disguising himself as a woman. It had happened before. And who did it? Loki.

It all started with Thor, as most problems did. Loki was always making mischief, but that was expected. It was literally his job. Thor, on the other hand, just generally ran around acting like a bonehead and making trouble for everyone. And that was how Loki ended up dressing as a woman. Well, one time, anyway. There were more, including the horse incident, but that was another story.

One day, Thor lost his hammer. Phallic jokes aside, he went looking for it. Turned out a giant stole it, as giants do, somehow sneaking into Thor's bedroom even though he was literally a giant. Thor was a really heavy sleeper, okay? The giant wouldn't give it back unless Freya married him. She wasn't on board with that, so Heimdall had the logical idea to dress Thor up as a woman and send him to get it. Loki volunteered to go with. It wasn't necessary or anything. Frankly, maybe he just really wanted an excuse. I wasn't judging. So Thor went and pretended to be Freya and as the giant took the hammer to celebrate with his new bride, Thor grabbed it and killed them all. They all lived happily ever after, except all the giants Thor killed. The usual ending for a Nose story.

It should have been a funny story, but it was sour in my mind. It was a magical old tale of gods and monsters. It had nothing to do with a boy who sawed the scalp off a girl's corpse with a pocketknife and draped it over his head like a serial killer's memento. I was plumbing the depths of desperate depravity, showing exactly what humans would do if there was no one to tell them not to. That was how far I'd gone, and I was on the move, because I knew it wasn't enough.

Of the remaining Tributes, only Weaver was within my abilities. For the others, I would need still more trickery. I needed not only subterfuge, but staging. If I was to have any hope of winning, I needed to control the location of the battle.

The towering kelp grew in a forest. They swayed gently, casting flickering shadows in the darkened water. Fronds billowed like waving hands off of stalks twenty feet tall. I couldn't even see the other side of the forest.

That was my location. There, were a floating corpse would logically become entangled. Where the visibility was limited, so I could dart away if a stronger Tribute came at me. Among the thick tangle of seaweed, where grasping tendrils would ensnare and slow blades and weapons. I chose a spot by a sprucelike specimen. After a moment, a frond fell across my back like a lifeless hand. To anyone passing by, I was a harmless carcass, floating facedown in the woods.

* * *

Havelock Grimm- District Four male

I was a failure as a Career. Since the Games began, I'd killed one person. I killed Wit in the Bloodbath and that was it. One lousy kill, from a boy half my size who wasn't even a killer. But to be fair, the Careers as a whole had put on a pretty poor show. Only Siren got a respectable amount of kills. Almost all the deaths so far had been accidents, or I didn't know how they went down. I just knew they weren't us, since none of us claimed them.

By this time, Floki had killed half a dozen people in his Games. He only went down when half a dozen terror birds came at him at once. At the end of that battle, there was one dead Career… and six dead terror birds. Had Floki won, there would have been songs and stories about his bravery. If I won… well, at least I was cute.

 _But I never wanted to fight._

I never even wanted this life. I knew about the value of bravery and warfare, but it wasn't for everyone, and that was okay. Some people were meant to be tradesmen, or bards, or farmers. Some people were meant to go out and win wars. Others were meant to raise children and nurture them into healthy adults. Neither one of those was better than the other.

From what Vera told me, Floki went through the same change. The first time around, he was all blood and guts. After he met Whyte, he started down another path. He talked about maybe starting a family- raising some kids and having a nice fishing boat. He'd tried out the warrior life and done his time, but he was ready for something else. I was way ahead of him. I never wanted the Career life at all.

But I had no choice. Volunteering wasn't enough. I couldn't know that if I didn't win, the mayor wouldn't go after my family anyway. It used to be you were innocent until proven guilty. Not in Panem. Anything he accused my family of, that would become the truth. And he might go even further.

 _You don't want to volunteer?_ He'd said. _I suppose you'd rather give him a chance._ He pointed at a boy barely twelve years old. I'd seen him around the shipyards, delivering messages or selling fish hooks for pocket money. A year made no difference. Thirteen-year-olds don't win the Games.

 _Destiny._ My family always talked about destiny. Gods, prophecies, omens. I knew what destiny meant. It meant no choice was your own. Someone else picked your life for you. Gods, or heritage, or a power-hungry mayor.


	46. Self-Reliance

Sam Wilson- District Twelve male

Sometimes, when people spent too long in the mines, things happened to them. Their eyes turned pink end milky, and the light hurt them. We had some older workers that were entirely blind, who did their jobs by hearing the echoes of the pickaxes and smelling the freshness of the air to find their way up. They turned all twitchy, shrinking away from light and hiding in their houses. In the open air, they looked around cagily, scared of the open space and lack of comforting walls.

Sometimes the coal turned your skin black and ashy, and sometimes it turned it white. All day long you were underground, like a creeping insect buried in the earth. It was dark when you got out. The sun became a rarely seen mystery. Skin went from blushing pink to pallid white, the texture and color of a cicada shell. Now it was happening to me. My skin was lifeless and vampiric, as thin and delicate as the crumpled tissue paper the older miners coughed blood into.

 _I'm going to have the weirdest line on my face._

As soon as it popped into my head, I burst out laughing. It was so stupid, but it was true. If I got out of here and took off this mask, I was going to have a huge red line around my face for weeks. The stylists would go nuts.

It felt good to laugh. It lifted a weight off my chest. Just the motion of my heaving chest seemed to clear out some of the stress and pressure.I stayed laughing for a good few minutes, setting myself off again every time I thought I would stop.

 _They probably think I'm nuts. Well isn't that perfect. The people who send kids into a death battle think_ I'm _nuts._

That's how humans are, isn't it? No matter how bad things are, we keep laughing. I'd had some of the best days of my life a mile below ground with a bunch of filthy, exhausted coworkers. Even the Victors, scarred as they were, kept going. Nothing stops us. Not even the worst of our own kind.

* * *

Lyon Cartier- District One male

Who was I, really? Under all the titles- tribute, Career, warrior- who was I? And what better time to figure it out than right before I'd probably die?

What I loved about philosophy was that it wasn't prescriptive. Philosophers didn't seek to define truth and the universe. They tried to describe and study what was already there. Each of them had different opinions, and many of them referenced and acknowledged each other. Plato looked up to heavenly ideals, while his student Aristotle concerned himself with the world underneath him. Plato, Descartes, Nietzsche and Emerson all agreed on the existence of an ultimate truth, but each of them sought for it on their own terms.

 _Know yourself,_ Socrates said. Be _yourself,_ Emerson continued. Since I entered the Arena, I'd been making my choices based on factors outside myself. Factors that _affected_ me, but that weren't inside me. I'd been focusing on survival, on what others could do to. Maslow would say I was caring for my physical needs and was unable to reach up to the highest need of self-actualization.

 _What do I want? Outside of the Arena, what is it that will make me feel fulfilled?_

 _I want to see Marseilles again._

It came in a flash. The second I thought about my deepest desire, her face filled my mind. I wanted to see my sister again. I loved her so much it hurt, so much it overpowered all my shame and guilt over killing. Above all else, she was what I wanted.

 _I shouldn't have come here._

Volunteering was the wrong decision. I shouldn't have done it. All my contemplation and study, and I was wrong. It was too late to fix it now, but I saw my mistake. I shouldn't have done this. All I could do now was hope I could get through it and find my way back to where I belonged.

* * *

Weaver Twill- District Nine male

I jerked violently when a shadow fell across. My mind went straight to the octopus- to its crushing tentacles and its inescapable bulk. I whirled around, panic welling up in me. It wasn't an octopus, I saw when Lyon's hand gripped my throat.

Even from afar, Lyon looked massive. This close, it was like fighting a giant. His arm was so long I could barely reach him with my legs. All I could do was weakly pummel at his stomach with donkey-kicks slowed both by distance and water. He held me easily as I thrashed, like a farmer might hold a struggling chicken.

I thought he'd kill me right away, but there was a complicated expression on his face. He looked reluctant, like he was trying to decide. It didn't give me any hope, though. If he had any real doubt about his path, he wouldn't be holding me by the neck. I clawed at his fingers, trying to cause enough pain to break his grip.

There was only a moment of indecision. Lyon picked up a rock and smashed it into the side of my head. Everything faded, and I seemed to float downwards, my ears ringing and my mind empty. There was a brief pressure on my face, and then water rushed into my nose and mouth. I was glad Jerrimiah and Study went before me. They didn't have to watch me die.

* * *

 **5th place: Weaver Twill- drowned when Lyon removed his mask**

 **I'm glad Weaver was popular. People are wary of outer District volunteers and especially volunteers for siblings, which is fair. But Weaver wasn't skilled or confident. He knew he was going to die and didn't hold out false hope. He was a good brother, something often undervalued in fiction. He showed that boys are also tender and affectionate, and they're not less masculine for it. Thanks 4everlark for Weaver, a good friend and an even better brother.**


	47. Short Stubby Chapter

**The next chapter would have been super long if I added it, so I split it into two.**

* * *

WEAVER TWILL- Lyon Cartier

I killed someone. I knew it was wrong, and I did it anyway. There was a term for the feeling it gave me. _Cognitive dissonance,_ they called it. Linguistically, philosophically, it resounded in my head. _Dissonance._ That was something I understood well.

* * *

Tillo Peters- District Eight mentor

I sent the kid some money. No one better start telling people I have a heart. Neither of them had a chance and it got to me. At least I could make something about all this right.

* * *

District Eight

Twine made good on Thatcher's last request, staying with Weaver until they aged out of the orphanage. Tillo's contribution didn't buy a brick house, but it bought a tiny brick cottage. With two factory incomes, two adopted brothers were able to make a life. In the children's section of the cemetery, there was a row of pristine white graves, each bearing an engraved butterfly. Grave symbolism was discouraged by the state, a relic of suppressed religions, but this one exception was never curtailed. Under one of the newest lay Chenille, her life cut as short as the ephemeral creature on her grace.

* * *

Nassor Doyle- District Nine mentor

Chastity was… difficult, but it was better than her being dead. I didn't like thinking about Declan. Leaving behind a boy that young. _Any_ boy losing his father. That was a hole you could never refill.

* * *

District Nine

We hoped Madeline might get clean for her son. We hoped too much. She made some changes and stayed mostly out of trouble. The relapses and mistakes weren't enough to do severe damage, but it _was_ lasting damage. Micah grew up into the incomplete, functioning but listless young man any child would after losing a parent. There are some things that can't be fixed. And some people, like Chastity, never even got the chance to try.

* * *

Loki Saberhagen- District Seven male

There was a whistling noise coming from above me. I stayed still, wishing I could turn my head to look but afraid to see. It was surely a toothy monster, squeaking like a dolphin while it advanced on me. If I stayed still, it might not notice me. Or it might be a scavenger.

There was a thump at the back of my head. My whole body jerked, and I clenched my eyes hut. This was it. It was all over for me. I waited for the clash of teeth and the stabbing pain.

After a second, the weight slid off me, bubbles tickling my face as it passed. I opened my eyes and saw a sponsor canister sinking into the seaweed. The weight that hit the back of my head was its ballast.

 _For me?_

There must have been a mistake. It was meant for someone else. No one would send a gift to me. There was no one in Seven who cared enough about me to go hungry to scrape together the coins to send Loki Saberhagen a sponsor gift. Only Hanna would have done that, and she couldn't have afforded it on her own. Multiple people would have had to go in on this. It wasn't possible.

My heart fluttered when I saw the _7_ engraved on the canister. It really was for me. Someone sent me a gift. I gently lifted the lid off and looked inside.

It was a dagger. It was a light, slender thing, made of plain metal and a cloth-wrapped handle. It glinted in the light, ripples and spirals reflecting from the moving water. It was crude, an instrument of death, but to me it was the loveliest thing I'd seen in a long time. It was sacrifice and encouragement and hope.

My face felt warm, and my cheeks were tight with my smile. I held the knife in my palm, feeling its thin edge against my skin. I could get home. I could get back to Hanna. And I know the people around me were happy for me.

 _Maybe my parents sent it._

It was nothing but a childish fantasy. I had no idea who sent the knife. It wasn't a Capitolite, or it would have been prettier. There was no way to know, so I could pretend anything. I could pretend my parents left me all those years ago because they couldn't afford me, and they'd been saving ever since to come get me. When they saw I got Reaped, they used all they had to send me this knife. When I got home, I'd be showered with riches, and we could be together again.

That was just a dream. But the knife was real. It was real that I could get home. My parents wouldn't be waiting for me, but Hanna would. And maybe someone else. Maybe a lot of other people. People who cared enough about me to send me a chance.


	48. Unnstoppable Force and Immovable Object

Havelock Grimm- District Four male

Lyon and I saw each other at almost the same moment. We were hovering above the coral reef, both looking for anyone but each other.

 _We have to do this, don't we?_

We couldn't put it off. None of the other Tributes were going to kill either of us. We'd both been hoping for a mutt, but that wasn't to be. The Capitol wanted its blood. If we didn't fight now, we both ran the risk that they'd grow impatient and send mutts for both of us. I saw in Lyon's expression that he was thinking the same thing.

"Hey, Lyon," I said, and the water was quiet enough that he could hear me.

"Hey, Havelock," he said.

"I guess we have to do this," I said.

"I wish it wasn't you. But at least I know you'll fight fair," Lyon said. It shouldn't have been true. I should have fought dirty and sneaky as I could. But some things run thicker than blood. And it was funny Lyon said that, because we both knew he'd do the same.

I felt guilty as we swam toward each other. Lyon didn't know I'd been sponsored a breastplate. It was thin enough that I could shove it under my wetsuit and it left just a little bulge that could have been an air bubble. But he'd find out soon enough, and I didn't think it would stop him.

* * *

Lyon Cartier- District One male

My first blow hit Havelock in the left side of his chest. I was going for a quick, fatal wound, but I didn't even get a wound. My spear hit something hard and ungiving and bounced sideways, jarring my hands.

 _Okay. Armor,_ I noted. But only on his chest. That left a lot of vulnerable spots. Like his legs. I used the momentum of the first strike to segue into a second one downward at his thigh. He wormed backward, getting a scratch instead of a slash, and swung at my side with his sword. So close to him, there was no dodging, so I used the Arena to my advantage and grabbed his slower-moving hand, pushing back on him. We arm-wrestled for a minute, until he punched me in the ear with his free hand. _Not unfair,_ I conceded as my ear buzzed. _This is a brawl, not a duel._

I shot out my hand and grabbed his throat. I knew that I wouldn't be able to strangle him barehanded, so I dug my thumb into the soft tissue of his Adam's apple. It was painful as heck and also set off the gag reflex, which threw you off balance. In hindsight, I was lucky he didn't puke all over both of us. He just jerked his head to the side and twisted free. He crooked his arm to bring his sword between us and push me away.

It was deceptively tranquil when my spear went through him. There was a tiny stream of bubbles, but he didn't make a sound. I tore the weapon back out, and the blood started to flow. But it was a gut wound, below his armor and left of his spine. HUman bodies were strange. A wound like that could kill in minutes, or it could kill in weeks. And Havelock didn't seem to be slowing down.

* * *

Havelock Grimm- District Four male

 _I don't want to kill you._

Even after he stabbed me, I didn't want to kill him. He had to do it, just like I did. I didn't think of him that way. When I saw him, I remembered how his face lit up when he talked about Emerson, or playing Truth and Dare in the lounge. Why did this have to be our society's idea of glory? Why couldn't we glorify friendship and happy lives? I could have done that. I wouldn't be here fighting tooth and nail to kill my friend.

It wasn't a fatal wound, at least I didn't think so. Not immediately. The water made the blood look worse than it was. And adrenaline or berserker rage, whatever you wanted to call it, kept me going strong. I swung my sword at Lyon's neck, holding it with both hands and wrapping my legs around Havelock's to brace him. It hit the side, biting in deep but slowed enough by the water that it didn't take his head off.

 _I hate this._

I wanted to win and get home. I was willing to fight for it. But I realized, as I saw the horrible rip in Lyon's flesh and the pain in his face, that I hated this. I wasn't a fighter like Floki. I was happy my parents were so against me volunteering, because if I got out of this, I never wanted to talk about it again.

* * *

Lyon Cartier- District One male

I stabbed Havelock again in the stomach. When I pulled the spear out, a ropelike white tendril snaked out, catching at the edge of the wound. Havelock's torso shuddered, and he cocked up a leg and kicked me away. He swung his sword straight at my face. The blade caught in my mask, cracking the plastic and flooding my eyepiece. Saltwater washed over my eyes and I closed them, but I forced them back open. Through the blur of water and the pain of the salt, I saw Havelock about to strike again.

* * *

Havelock Grimm- District Four male

Before I could bring my sword down, Lyon brought his spear up. The metal tip scraped against my teeth before he tore it back out, ripping the edges of the gaping hole in my cheek. My face flapped in the water, and each breath through the rebreather took in water as well as air.

I didn't have much time. I grabbed Lyon and pulled him close. I ground my sword into his back as he thudded his spear into mine over and over. I could hardly see through all the red in the water, and Lyon was even blinder than I was. We thrashed in the water, going at each other like two sharks in a frenzy.

I wasn't sure who stopped first, me or him. I was floating on my back, unsure how I'd gotten there. Lyon was floating facedown a few feet away from him. He still held his spear, which had a strip of my flesh on it like a ghoulish flag. My sword was clean, the blood washed away by the moving water.

 _Floki._

I wondered what he was thinking as he watched. Was he sighing in exasperating that I was dying after one fight when he took down four opponents at once? Was he proud that we weren't so different after all? Valhalla was where the warriors went, but there wasn't fighting there. It was a feast. Just a feast, where you ate and laughed with all the brothers you'd lost before. He'd be there, and there would be an eternity to finally know him.

 _Save a spot for me, brother._

* * *

Lyon Cartier- District One male

All the philosophers were always saying how senseless war was. Except Machiavelli, but he kind of did his own thing. I always chalked it up to ignorant idealism. Of course no one _wants_ war. But sometimes it's necessary. Saying otherwise just means you're too naive to understand the sacrifices of the people who died so you could _be_ that naive.

Up close, it was easy to see their thoughts. There were two young men in the prime of their lives, bleeding out into the water. Days before, they had been friends. They'd been dreading this moment, and when it came, there was nothing they could do to change it.

When the parachute came, Havelock's body blocked it. It lay draped across his shoulder, and I looked him in his dead eyes as I took it. With movements as weak and clumsy as an infant, I started applying the hemostatic bandages and wound-sealing cream. It must have cost a fortune, but it was so much more than that. It was a second chance, and that was something priceless.

* * *

 **4th place: Havelock Grimm- Torn to pieces by Lyon**

 **Havelock was a possible Victor from the start. He had the strength and motive, and he also had lots of character. He was definitely his own person, and he was confused and wistful about his broken connection to his brother. It's kind of creepy reflecting that he was basically a child soldier recruited by the mayor, even more so than most Careers. He did all he could, and now no one can hurt him anymore. Thanks CarlpoppaLOL for the latest in a long line of solid Tributes.**

 **PrinceofCorinth, you the LUCKIEST son of a gun in my SYOTs' history. I was _in the middle of Lyon's epitaph_ when I changed my mind. So the first aid stuff might not match up just right, since I didn't go back and change it all to make it less severe. I just changed the last paragraph of his last POV, which was dying thoughts before.**

 **ATTENTION! Every once in a while, I do this. I had a plan for the finale, but I'm not sure if that's where the fans are going. So if you want, I am welcoming input on who you think should win and why. PMs, reviews, whatever, but PMs are more private if you're worried about backlash. It's not a literal vote, but I want to see what you're thinking, because I want to make sure you enjoy the Victor. So hit me up. Quickly if possible, since I go back to work tomorrow and will be starting to put the finale together as soon as I publish this.**


	49. Three's A Crowd

HAVELOCK GRIMM- Lyon Cartier

Guess I made my decision. I crossed that line a long time ago, but it was another reminder that there was no going back. I was going to do everything I could to kill two more people, and then I was going to look my sister in the eye and hope she didn't cringe.

* * *

Shane Donegal- District Four mentor

I wanted to volunteer and shouldn't have. Havelock didn't want to volunteer and he did. I knew how terrible it was, but when he died, the thing I felt most was relief. Every second I saw him brought back memories of the little brother I led into this. Had he won, I would have seen Patrick's face every day of my life.

* * *

Careen Ellis- District Four mentor

My little doppelganger bit the dust. That was probably a bad sign or something. Some people are meant to live perilously and die perilously. Who's to say I wouldn't have been happy to die in the Games? I certainly was a little butthead who didn't see consequences past "ooh shiny crown! I want to be a Victor!" Oh, for the simplicity and bravery of youth.

* * *

District Four

The Grimms didn't have any more children to lose. They could finally live the peaceful life Havelock had always wanted and Floki had come to embrace. Siren's family held a riotous celebration of her life, telling each other that it was how she would have wanted to go. After a few years, they could even come to believe it.

* * *

Lyon Cartier- District One male

I felt uncomfortably like I was wearing

Havelock's face. It was just his eyepiece, of course. With some jury-rigging of the tube from Havelock's bottle, I'd managed to suck out most of the water that got in during the transfer. I was trying desperately not to think of the spit and blood I had probably also sucked out. _Guess we're blood brothers now,_ I thought wryly.

It had been a full day since Havelock died. Capitol medicine being what it was, I was almost fully healed. There was still a wicked scar on my neck, but at least the skin was closed. My back ached, but I didn't intend to take any damage on that part of me. I was facing my enemy head-on.

Havelock's breastplate was nestled under my wetsuit. I'd taken it off him along with the mask, before I had to leave him to the sharks. I hid in a crevice in the coral as they tore him apart, hoping the bandages were as tight as they seemed. The sharks were narrow, needle-nosed black things, with teeth like sewing pins. They weren't as large as the ones that took Kodiak, but they made up for that in numbers. There was nothing left when they were done. It looked like Havelock had dissolved, maybe right up to Heaven.

Two more left. Just two more, and I could go home. This would all be behind me. Of course that wasn't true, but I could pretend. I just had to find Loki and Sam, and this would be over.

It took two more days. Two days I hunted day and night. It gave to time to heal, but it also gave my skin enough time to finally give up the ghost. Cobwebby strings of skin hung from my limbs, like a shedding snake. I rubbed my hands together once without thinking about it, and my hand just… slid off. A perfect sheet of skin dangled from my fingertips, like my hand was high-fiving its own ghost. But finally, I saw him.

* * *

Sam Wilson- District Twelve male

I saw him. Lyon was coming at me full speed ahead. I fled, but his legs were way longer than mine, and he had those webbed gloves. I knew I wasn't going to make it. There was only one thing to do.

I whirled around, swinging my shovel at his face. It hit his mask and from the sound, it must have broken his nose. Blood pooled in his mask and his head arced back, away from my reach. My primary target frustrated, I went for the next best thing. I bent my arm back and swung my shovel to break his ribs.

 _Thud._

The shovel bounced harmlessly off the armor I hadn't seen. Lyon's arms came up behind me, and his sword glittered as it sank away from us. He grabbed the back of my head and yanked me forward. My forehead thumped into his breastplate, and everything went gray.

 _I was so close._ My arms floated weightlessly as Lyon pulled my limp body. Shelby and Ambrosia would have been so proud. I'd worked so hard, all my life. As my head arced down toward Lyon's knee, the shovel slipped from my fingers. When I saw them again, I was going to throw away the tools and play.

* * *

 **3rd place: Sam Wilson- Fractured skull caused by Lyon**

 **I was surprised with the reaction to Sam. Compared to most of the forms, his was more slight. It wasn't the shortest (record for Victors goes to Tillo, whose entire form was five lines), but the personality was more bare. Basically all it said was "workhorse". I thought he would survive the Bloodbath, putter around a few days, and then die. But his allies gave him something to interact with. He found a cause to work for, and that made him go farther. He was also a caring, fatherly guy, and I guess you all liked that. He was never disqualified for being from Twelve, because that's one of the canon divergences I allow. How sad would it be to submit a Tribute knowing they can't win? Boring! BTW I also don't take into account previous Victors. Each batch is judged on its own, meaning a District can win twice in a row (only once so far: Careen and Shane). Anyway, thanks TheNoobyBoy for Sam. I promise I wasn't toying with you, I just honestly didn't know who would win. Sam exceeded the expectations for him and became bigger than the parts provided.**

 **I looked at all the feedback and did some ruminating, and I came to a decision. I'll start working on the finale now and it should be ready tonight.**


	50. L is for Loser

**Ha ha they're both L's so this doesn't tell you anything. Doesn't _L_ you anything, ha ha ha.**

* * *

Loki Saberhagen- District Seven male

Lyon was coming for me. He was picking the Arena apart, searching for any trace of me. He would reach this place eventually. I had to be ready for him. If I wanted to have any chance of surviving, I needed every advantage possible. It was going to take every trick I had. They called me silver-tongued back home. The words that flowed from my mouth originated in my mind. It needed to be even sharper than they said.

I swam down to the murky sand at the bottom of the kelp, knowing what a risk it was. If Lyon saw me, the trick was up. Clouds of silt stirred up as I searched through the muck. Some hours later, I found what I was looking for. A dead fish the size of my arm was tangled in the roots of a clump of seaweed. Its flesh was soft and pulpy, already rotten of decayed. I tore its stomach open, unspooling white threads of intestine. I yanked them out and brought them with me back to my perch.

Once I was in position, I started to tear myself apart. I rubbed at my arms, bringing off white strips of waterlogged skin. I tucked them into the edges of my wetsuit, letting them dangle and drift. I cut a slit down the front of the suit, ripping at the edges so they were rough and worn. I shoved the fish guts into the hole, wedging them against the edges and letting them billow out underneath me. Jaydalin had been dead for almost a week. Lyon would be suspicious if she wasn't rotten. I relaxed into a limp position and floated for hours, a young man buried under a girl's scalp and a corpse's leavings.

* * *

Lyon Cartier- District One male

I searched the whole ocean. From the Cornucopia to the abyss I searched, stopping at the dropoff. Anything down there would have been killed by now. I doubled back, combing the coral reef. I knew I couldn't search every inch of its caverns and cracks, but I didn't have to. The Gamemakers wanted a fight, and they hated a coward. They would have flushed Loki out when I got near him.

I didn't know the reef ended. I'd thought it went right to the force field. But the coral under me started to dwindle and grow pale, and then I was at the far side. Ahead of me, there was an underwater forest. Ominous towers of kelp stretched from the ocean floor to the surface, waving like the living woods of a fairytale. Shafts of light wafted through it, giving each tower a glowing aura. I had the sense that some terrible monster could lurk in there, some creature of water and shade.

It was just the sort of place Loki would hide. He was an eerie, dark character, all tricks and deflection. He would know no one wanted to go in there, and he would stay, waiting for everyone else to kill each other. No longer.

I swam between the kelp trees, shivering when a stray branch fell across my legs like a dead woman's embrace. The sunlight was starting to die out, leaving a twilight cast over the forest.

I shuddered again when I saw the streaming hair. It looked like just more kelp at first. My stomach dropped when I realized it was a body. I'd passed two during the last few days of hunting. Merry's had looked peaceful, disturbed only by the eel gnawing her cheek. Study had been dead longer. She didn't have a face at all. Jaydalin had been dead a long time. I was glad her face was hidden by her long, brown hair.

It made sense a body would wash up here. The kelp would tangle it up, drawing it in like a spider snares a fly. Jaydalin probably wasn't the only one, I realized. If she was here, the same current would have carried others. They wouldn't get past the grabbing, holding branches. I was swimming through a cemetery, as silent as the graves.

I knew there was something I had to do. I didn't want to look at her nightmare face, but I had to go closer. Jaydalin could tell me if Loki was here. If he was here, he would have seen her first. He wouldn't have had any qualms about going up to her and searching her body. If I pushed back that long hair and saw something missing- rebreather, mask, anything he thought he could use- I would know. If she was intact, I could leave this place.

I swam up underneath Jaydalin, dwarfed by the massive trunk of the kelp she was tangled in. I reached up, and strands of her hair tickled my skin. As I started to push it back, Jaydalin's corpse stabbed me in the throat.

* * *

Loki Saberhagen- District Seven male

I shot out my hand, sliding down the dagger I'd been palming. The blade sank into the hollow of Lyon's throat, and I realized it hadn't pierced him. It slashed down his throat, slicing across his collarbone and sticking into the very top of his chest. The element of surprise was used up, and I had to think quicker than I'd ever thought.

Lyon wasted no time bringing up his spear. I tore Jaydalin's scalp from my head and shoved it in Lyon's face, blocking his view for an instant. I grabbed the kelp trunk and pulled myself behind it, avoiding Lyon's strike. His lance stuck into Jaydalin's scalp. Her hair tangled around it, cushioning the tip and giving it a strange sideways drag when he moved it.

I kept pulling, twisting myself around the trunk downwards. I stuck my dagger into Lyon's calf as he ripped Jaydalin's hair off his spear. When he shoved the lance down at my face, I kicked off the kelp, pushing myself out of the way and shoving the kelp into his lance, tangling it again. I scrambled down the kelp as Lyon raged after me, shuffling plans and tricks through my head and praying desperately for two more seconds to think.

* * *

Lyon Cartier- District One male

Damn Loki. Havelock had the manhood to fight like a warrior. Killing Loki was like running down a clever dog. I let him flee for a second as I gathered my thoughts. I had all the advantages. I was twice his weight and had twice his reach. He wanted me to try to use that so he could throw some trick at me. I was as intelligent as he was, and I was going to fight like it.

I pushed off the kelp, propelling myself down at Loki. He was trying to reach the bottom, where he could stir up the silt and make his escape. He wouldn't reach it in time.

* * *

Loki Saberhagen- District Seven male

I wasn't going to reach it in time. Lyon was coming at me like a shark, lance trained at my face. My mind clicked an idea into place and my hands were moving before the thought was fully formed.

I yanked the top off my empty water filter and shoved the funnel up. Bubbles spouted from the top, passing in front of Lyon's face. The instant they were over his eyes, I darted underneath him, sticking my dagger into his thigh and pushing off his back with both legs, pushing him down and giving me a head start on my way back up.

Lyon was fast. He pivoted his arm around, catching me by the foot. He yanked me down as he brought his knee up. My face smashed against it, sending the rebreather crashing into my mouth. Two of my teeth cracked, and so did the rebreather. Water leaked into my mouth, telling me what would happen if I tried to inhale.

 _I can't breathe. I can't breathe._

The utterly terrifying, primal fear threatened to put a stop to my tricks forever. My mind flashed over the situation, looking for any way out.

In what seemed like slow motion, Lyon brought his lance toward my heart. I bent to the side, grabbing a handful of the kelp behind me. When Lyon's lance grazed under my armpit, I flung the kelp across his arm. The seaweed tangled around the point, taking care of one weapon for one instant. But Lyon was more than his lance. He _was_ a weapon.

I grabbed onto the shaft of the lance, using it to push myself upward. With my other hand, I stuck the dagger under Lyon's chin, through the top of his throat and into the roof of his mouth. I bent my legs and pushed off his shoulders, getting far less distance than I wanted.

Lyon jerked his lance, slashing through the kelp that ensnared it. He followed me up with a final effort, blood and bubbles streaming from his slashed throat. He grabbed me by the foot again and slammed the spear into my calf, sticking it all the way through. I gritted my teeth and yanked. The lance was torn from his grip, still impaling my leg.

Lyon stopped in the water, starting to lean back. I saw his throat sputter as he tried to breathe, air leaking right back out. My own lungs were burning. The awful claustrophobia tightened on me- the undeniable reality that I was surrounded by water and there was no way I was ever going to breathe again. Lyon's rebreather smirked up at me. I couldn't go after it. Lyon was dying, but as long as he had a single spark of life, he would kill me before I got it off him. I stayed very still, suspended above Lyon, my chest clenching and pleading with me to breathe, to just take a breath.

* * *

Lyon Cartier- District One male

The blood was going to kill me before the air. Lifeblood gushed from both my leg and my throat, the warm water drawing it out easily. Mere feet above me, Loki hovered, looking down longingly at the rebreather on my face. It would have done him more good than it could do me. All the air in the world didn't matter if it couldn't reach my lungs.

I raised myself up, unwilling to lay down and die. Loki pushed off the kelp we were dangling by, drifting perhaps ten feet. He was that close, and he was a million miles away. The water seemed to grow thicker around me, slowing my limbs and weighing me down. I became aware of how beautiful my blood was, rising up against the blue water and framed by the waving green kelp.

 _Death is the final question._

Everyone had a theory. But death was the last mystery. I was about to find the answer. I would share it with everyone who went before me. Every mind that reached its last thought and flew away. Every soul that found the end of its path and went past where the sidewalk ends. I thought of Marseilles. She always called me a thinker. Before I went where she couldn't follow, I wanted her to be the last thought in my mind.

* * *

Loki Saberhagen- District Seven male

I felt the cannon rather than hearing it. The soundwaves hummed through the water, jarring me. I heard a sharp scraping as the top of the Arena lifted away. Something splashed into the water, pushing me down a foot. _It's the claw,_ I thought. _Coming to lift me out._ That was the last thought before the water took over. My mouth opened then, and water flooded my lungs.

I passed out as the claw tightened on my chest. It just happened, whether or not I wanted it. My eyelids went limp and closed, like I was falling asleep all at once. I felt the tug, and I was moving up, like my soul was floating away from my body.

* * *

 **2nd place: Lyon Cartier- Blood loss and suffocation caused by Loki**

 **Lyon was my initial pick. As usual, kiss of death right there. I really wanted a Career Victor, since it's been so long. All along the way, I thought it would be Lyon, Siren or Havelock. Lyon resounded with me because I'm also into philosophy. Not Emerson in particular, but others. I could write Lyon easily and eloquently because that's something I know. He would have been a dynamic and very significant Victor, and definitely would have changed Panem for years to come. Second place always sucks, but it's just because I changed my mind so late. Thanks PrinceofCorinth for Lyon. He broke stereotypes, made his own way, and reached past conventions to try to find something more.**

 **Victor: Loki Saberhagen**

 **He's not dead, don't worry. He DID drown, clinically speaking, but that's not always fatal. Loki started out as almost a joke character. The way he was so close to Marvel Loki made me think he'd be good for some references and then would die. As I was wondering which Career to pick for the win, Loki kept whispering. 'Hey. What about me? How about me? Wouldn't that surprise everyone?' I quickly got attached and started to look into the possibility. I was worried the readers didn't want it, so that's why I felt around and stalled with Lyon so long. Reading the input, it was pretty evenly split, with not many people having a very strong opinion any way. So I decided that this once, I'd pick what I wanted. I picked Loki for a few reasons. First, I liked all the tricks and the unique way he did things. Second, I really identified with his insecurities. I've always had sympathy for Loki because I'm the second daughter and the eldest is a golden child. Loki felt his lack of parents and love deeply, and that gave his detachment and coldness poignancy for me. He didn't have a past, and I wanted to give him a future. I also liked how far he went to win. People say he did nothing and it's sort of true, but it was WEAPONIZED nothing. He floated perfectly still under a dead girl's scalp for DAYS. That can't be good for your mental wellbeing. Then, to make up for those comments, I pulled out all the stops for a trick-filled, hopefully pulse-pounding finale. If he hadn't earned it before, I made sure he did with this chapter. I loved finding ways for his razor-sharp mind to weaponize everything from kelp to bubbles, and I think it's one of the cooler finales I've written. I have great plans for his Victorhood, and I think it'll be even more clear why I picked him over the next few chapters. Congrats Sparky She-Demon. Come take your place in my Victors' Hall of Fame.**


	51. Interlude

**Due to the unusually severe effects of the Arena, I decided to add this chapter. I have work early tomorrow but I can still do a little chapter.**

* * *

Lyte Anderson- Medic

" _I need an intubator, STAT!"_

As soon as Loki's body breached the ship, half a dozen medics were all over him. We threw him onto the examination table in the center of the holocraft bay and got to work. Dr. Aziz hurriedly strapped Loki into the CPR apparatus.

"There's a heartbeat," Dr. Janus said, holding up her hand to halt Dr. Aziz. The CPR vest could perform chest compressions indefinitely, but it could also crush the patient's sternum, and if a heartbeat was already present, it could easily damage it. With Loki's already dessicated skin, it would probably deglove his entire torso.

A robot arm plucked an intubator off the surgical table, following my voice to hand it to me. I tore Loki's broken rebreather from his mouth and jammed the flexible tube down his throat. The vacuum-sealed bladder on my end started siphoning the water from his lungs. Sirens and alarms from a dozen machines screamed about Loki's condition, filling the air with noise and blinking red lights.

"How's the drip?" I asked N.P. Robe.

"It's set," she said. Liquid oxygen was flowing into Loki's antecubital vein. That had been our prime priority. After clinical drowning, a patient has approximately fifteen for forty-five minutes to be revived. However, every instant after oxygen stops flowing increases the risk of brain damage. Loki still wasn't breathing on his own, but the intravenous oxygen would sustain him.

 _Stable._

The worst was over. I monitored the intubator and the displays showing Loki's vitals, but we were out of the woods. The EKGs were indicative of an unconscious but undamaged brain. His heart rate was normal and his blood oxygen levels were steadily rising.

"We got him," I said, and quiet cheers broke out from some of the more energetic medics. One by one, the alarms went silent. Dr. Aziz took a seat, fluffing at his hair in relief.

Trauma care was always a gray zone. I'd had days where hours went by, and when I looked at the clock in exhaustion, it wasn't five minutes after I'd last looked. Later, when I reviewed the tapes with Loki's physical therapist to start making a care plan, I saw that the time from Loki reaching the hovercraft to stabilization was less than a minute.

N.P. Robe started cutting off Loki's wetsuit so he could get at the fragile skin underneath. The rest of us pitched in as he started to abrade the waterlogged tissue away and apply mineral baths in preparation for the new skin. We were glad to see the thick skin on the soles of his feet was undamaged. If he needed skin grafts… _when_ he needed skin grafts, that would be what we used.

A few minutes later, Loki's EKG started wavering. He coughed, then stirred, feeling at the tube in his mouth.

"Don't worry, it's just to get the water out," I said, leaning closer to Loki could see me.

Loki opened his eyes and gave a wheezing groan. I observed his pupils and was glad to see they quickly dilated and focused on me.

"Good news!" I said. "You won!"

* * *

 **I would have guessed the Capitol has cloning technology based on muttations, but they didn't clone Peeta's leg, so skin grafts it is.**


	52. Coronation

Loki Saberhagen- Victor

In a haze of drugs and exhaustion, I had a vague memory of a blurry, smiling man leaning over me.

" _Good news. You won!"_

 _Was that real? It_ seems _like I won. I was half-dead myself, but Lyon was all dead. I even heard his cannon._

I slowly opened my eyes. There was air all around me. Right away, it freaked me out. There was just _nothing._ There was no warm weight pushing on me, no tiny straw I sucked breaths out of. When I raised an arm, it shot straight up without resistance, then fell back weakly without support. I flopped both arms in turn, feeling a mix of fascination and panic as my fingers grabbed at nothing.

"Having fun?"

I turned my head sharply to reveal Paul sitting in a chair on the side of the room. I hadn't even noticed him past all the mesmerizing air. I sucked in breath as my head turned, and I winced and coughed at the burning, scratching pain in my throat. It felt like all the moisture had been stripped away, leaving only raw tissue.

"I guess. Where's Hades?" I asked.

"He's on his way. He just got waylaid by the stylists. I keep telling him to use the back entrance," Paul said. "How you feel?"

"Terrible," I said. Everything hurt. I didn't know where to start. My skin, which I'd noticed was pinkish and felt warm and irritated. My leg, which so recently had a spear sticking out of it. My throat, so raw I could barely speak. I coughed, and my right ear exploded in a white supernova of pain. I yelped and clamped my hand to it, my fingers brushing metal.

"Ear infections. You ever heard of Swimmer's Ear? You got it _bad._ They're not permanent, though," Paul said, pointing at the tiny tubes in both my ears. "They're just to drain the fluid."

All at once, the realization hit me. I was on land again. I was _on land,_ where humans belonged. I wasn't in that godforsaken, alien environment anymore. I sat up, almost pitching forward with the unexpected easiness of the movement.

"Can I get up?" I asked. Without waiting for an answer, I pushed the sheets back. I swung my legs out of bed, and hopped up. Immediately, I splatted face-first onto the ground.

"I don't know," Paul said. " _Can_ you?"

* * *

 **I had to use Paul here because Hades totally would have warned Loki instead of letting him faceplant.**

* * *

"Hey, Loki!" Hades called when he saw me as I was going to the stylists and he was going from. His face was caked in glitter and powder, making him look even younger than he was. "Oh, they got you in a wheelchair?"

"Just until I get back on my feet," I said, and then realized the inane truism of what I'd just said.

"You did it! That was so cool! Just like in the story where Loki pretended he was Freya!" Hades said. For the first time since I woke up, I smiled. I hadn't thought there was anyone who understood.

"See you soon. They're going to want you for a long time," Hades said, looking down the hall at the door to the styling room. "I'm really glad you're back."

" _LOOOOOOOKIIIIIIIIII!"_ Flora screamed as Paul pushed on the door. It opened, revealing her face. As soon as she saw me, her mouth dropped open and her hands fluttered to her chest, eyes round and shocked. " _LOKI!"_ she shrieked.

"What is it? What's wrong?" I asked, tears already springing to me eyes. _What have they done to me?_ Why didn't Paul mention it? Why didn't Hades?

Flora threw her hands to her face and turned around, fleeing across the room and bursting into sobs.

"What's wrong?" I asked again, and my voice cracked. I looked around the room and stopped cold when my eyes found a mirror.

 _What have they done to me?_

My unkempt, shaggy hair was glossy, as bright as a raven's wing. My face was pale and hollow underneath it. My cheekbones jutted out harshly, shadowing my face like a hooded Grim Reaper. My eyebrows were sharper and darker, like a child's drawing of Satan. My skin had a horrible pallor. The second I saw it, I was right back in the Arena, looking at Jaydalin's pale corpse. And the eyes… The eyes that saw that corpse's face in the mirror. They were bright yellow. Snake's eyes. A monster's eyes.

* * *

It was a nightmare going out for my interview. My black suit was impeccably tailored, highlighting my frame while tastefully hiding the array of struts and supports that moved my atrophied legs so I could pretend to walk. My shambling gait would be chalked up by the audience to the gilded cane I leaned on. I should have felt relieved when I reached my seat, but I was afraid I wouldn't be able to get back up.

"Presenting our newest Victor, District Seven's Loki Saberhagen!" Caesar announced. "How does it feel to be the most famous person in Panem?"

"I don't really know yet," I admitted.

"I'll tell you this. You're absolutely unforgettable. I know we're going to see this in the highlights reel, but what you did to get here… astounding." Caesar gave me a congratulatory grin. "I guess sometimes the bad guys win, right?"

" _What?"_ The room shrank around me, so I saw nothing but Caesar's face, and how his grin flickered when he saw my reaction. My pained whisper was so quiet the cameras didn't catch it, but Caesar saw everything.

"Right. Well," he said quickly, and coughed. "Let's have that highlight reel."

 _I'm not the bad guy._

I looked desperately over the crowd as the reel played. Usually people would cheer and yell how much they loved the Victor. But they were silent now. Through the Bloodbath and the first few days, there was nothing but the screaming of dying Tributes and the Anthem playing softly in the background. Then we reached the part where I found Jaydalin. That was when the jeering began. Howling, hooting screams emanated from the crowd, both wordless exclamations and pointed accusations.

"Monster!" someone yelled from the back of the crowd.

"Savage!" a woman yelled from the front row, and I saw her snarling face as she did it.

"Murderer!" a little boy yelled, then smiled up at his father for approval.

I looked back at Caesar, silently pleading with him to tell them to stop. He always tried to make the Tributes look good. He would help me. His eyes caught mine for a minute, but he hurriedly looked away, pretending to fiddle with his collar.

One of the men in the front row jumped at the stage, and then they were all coming, like a human flood. _They're going to kill me,_ I thought, as I tried to get up and fumbled my cane, dropping it. _Torches and pitchforks for the monster._

A dozen Peacekeepers seemed to melt into existence, they came so quickly. They pushed back the few people who had reached the stage, far more gently than they would have for Districters. As soon as the stage was clear, a forcefield crackled into place, cutting me off from them. I couldn't hear their screams anymore, but I could still see the hate in their faces.

Caesar and I sat in silence for the perhaps ten minute break in transmission as the Peacekeepers settled the crowds, escorted out a handful of aggressors, and established security for Snow to arrive. I stared down at my lap, unable to look at him. Tears disappeared into the dark fabric of my suit, and I wondered what Puff would think if she saw my smudged makeup.

 _They made me the bad guy._ The people who watched children die for fun looked at me and shuddered. _I just wanted to go home. I didn't want to do this._ You _made me do this. Why do you hate me for being what you made me?_

The forcefield extended down the catwalk when the Anthem announced President Snow's arrival. It put all my horror in perspective when I realized I was relieved to see him. I was relieved to see the mass murderer, because I knew he wouldn't look at me, the boy who only killed two people, with horror. Then I saw the crown.

 _Oh my god it's her it's her hair._

My heart clenched, beating so forcefully it echoed in my head. My breathing stopped, and I took a step back before President Snow's raised eyebrow froze me. Just before I thought I might faint, he came close enough that I saw it was fine strands of bronze. It was strands of bronze woven into the circlet that looked so much like a coiled braid of hair. It wasn't the preserved scalp of the girl I scavenged, just a facsimile. Just a facsimile of the worst moment of my life, that I would wear on my head forever.

* * *

 **I'll do the final eulogies next time. I just wanted to get this out before I went to bed. Not a great start for Loki, though :( Maybe Seven will be kinder to him?**


	53. Initiation

Loki Saberhagen- Victor

I jumped when I heard the knock on the door. People had been bothering me all day. Mostly nurses and stylists, but sometimes visitors. Once in a while it was someone who just wanted to see the new Victor, but sometimes it was people pounding on the door and harassing me. The knock came again, quietly and politely.

"Loki? It's just Hades and some of the Victors," Hades' voice came. I picked up my cane and limped across the room to crack open the door.

"It's just the Victors," Hades said, pointing out the crowd behind him that filled almost the whole hallway. "They always do this for new Victors. They just want to welcome you."

 _Welcome?_ That was a word I hadn't heard in a long, long time. In fact, I wasn't sure if anyone had actually used the word 'welcome' in regards to me in my entire life.

"Do they know I look like this?" I asked.

"You were on television," Hades said.

"They're cool, mate. They've seen worse," Paul called from the back of the cluster.

I opened the door and they came trickling in. Some, Careers through and through, swaggered in without a care in the world. Others, like Kazuo and Cornflower, slunk in like they were as scared as I was.

 _But not scared of_ me.

They weren't scared of me. Of all their disparate reactions and mannerisms, none of them shrank away from me or really even gave me a second look past the initial meetup.

"They're so normal," I said to Hades.

"Speak for yourself," Azure said, circling a finger at his temple and looking sidelong at Cornflower. He held up her hands in a shrug.

"Hades mentioned you were worried we wouldn't like you," Ava said. "You don't have to worry. Whatever you did, most of us did the same. Some of us did worse."

"Kid, I literally have silver claws," Pray said. "Honestly, that might have been my Tribute whose head you used, but it was totally badass."

"And Lyon was mine, but we're Careers. That's what we signed up for," Hyden said. "If you get killed by an outlier, you got no one but yourself to blame. No offense."

"Usually we all get together and do something when a new Victor comes," Hades said. "Is there anything you'd like to do?"

 _I don't want to leave this room._ I didn't want to go out where there were other people. I didn't want to show my face. I didn't want to be reminded of what I did every time someone stared at me or backed away and clutched nearby children.

"What if we just stay here?" Seeder said, like an understanding mother I'd never had. "We can order in and just sit around and talk."

Everything sent up from the Capitol kitchens was stellar. The only thing I didn't touch was the soup and the fish. I found myself voraciously eating plain bread, fascinated with its chewy fluffiness and its hearty, solid taste.

"This is really dark, but I think it might help. Let's all go around and share what we had to do to win the Games," Ava said.

Several Victors groaned.

"You're such a therapist," Pray said to her mentee.

" _Cheeeeeeesy,"_ Azure jeered.

"Talking about these things helps heal," Ava insisted. And she would know. I didn't know much about the Career Victors, but everyone knew about Ava's "condition". The Victors sympathized, the outliers wondered why someone would _choose_ not to eat food, and the Capitolites encouraged it.

"Fine. I ripped a guy apart with my fingers. That guy, actually," Pray said, pointing to Kazuo. "Funny story."

"I shot a girl to death as she apologized to her father for dying," Frankie said.

"I stabbed off a boy's face with a dart," Blake said.

"I stabbed my best friend in the back," Peridot said, breaking the mood by appearing to be less regretful and more excited to brag about it.

"I blew up three people. With families," Sky said quietly.

"I literally did nothing," Cornflower said.

"I voted for friends to die," Lancia said.

"Jeez, it's like a funeral in here," Hyden said. "Point is, we're not gonna judge. Glass houses or something like that? The things you think make you a monster… to us, it was Tuesday. And even if you were right, and you _were_ a monster, well, at least you're not alone."

"For most of us, all we have is each other," Soleil said. "Whatever you lost to get here, you have us. Every Victor is family. Forever, no matter what you do."

 _I have a family._ Since the day I was left on a doorstep to hopefully get found before I froze, I'd never had that. No mother to hold me, no father to teach me, no house, no siblings, no attachments to anyone. I looked around the room and saw women and men old enough to be my parents, one Victor younger than I was, and dozens upon dozens of aunts, uncles, sisters, and brothers. It overwhelmed me. I sat frozen in my chair, unable to accept that I had a family, tied together by something that would never leave any of us. Pray and Azure were wrong. This wasn't cheesy at all. I could sit in this room all day, getting to know every last member of my family.

* * *

 **Like two more chapters and we're done!**

 **Yeah Hades should be older than Loki. But it's pretty well-known by now that time is a bit wibbly-wobbly in my stories. Otherwise Orchard would be... like, pushing 70.**


	54. Victory Tour

Loki Saberhagen- Victor

I knew right away the Victory Tour would be all extremes. Either I had nothing to do with a District, or I had _everything_ to do with it.

The worst would be over with after the first two. For all the outcry, my body count was pretty low for a Victor. I only killed two people… the two Tributes from One. My speech was delivered from inside a forcefield, which deflected the stones and weapons thrown in a display that would have ended in executions from anyone but the Capitol's lapdog. But honestly, once I found out I would be inside, it wasn't that bad. I could understand their anger. They'd lost two children to me. Out of all the hate I'd gotten, that one piece I could understand.

Two was dead silent when I started my speech. I was three sentences in when a scalp, brown-haired and smeared with blood, hit the stage. Then there were hundreds, wigs thrown from every corner of the audience amid screeches and threats of things I never wanted to repeat. Paul said it was the first time in years a Victor had been allowed to cut his speech short.

After that, it was a dream compared to what came before. Three didn't seem to give a flying heck about the whole thing. To them dead was just dead. Four was sulky about not winning the year tailor-made for them, but it wasn't _my_ fault their Tributes choked. For Five and up, it was just another year of two dead kids. Nothing new there.

Then, after what seemed like months, the train was taking me home. I looked out the window the whole way, watching harsh desert give away to one tree, then ten, then hundreds, and then so many I couldn't see the sky past the track. The towering pines and redwoods of my home closed over me like a protective ceiling, and I could already hear the birds that would greet me when I stepped off the train.

 _She might be there._ It broke my heart that I wasn't sure. I couldn't ask Hanna to stay with me after all this. Maybe she'd turned away long before, disgusted by what I'd become. I couldn't know she would be there to see me come home. I wasn't sure I _had_ a home to come back to.

I thought there would be mobs of people at the train station, and Hades, Paul and Sequoia were already getting ready to create a distraction so I had a head start. There _was_ a mob of people, but not at my car. They were down at the other end of the train, at the car loaded with the first round of District gifts that came with a new Victor. In front of my car, the platform was nearly empty. Only two people stood on it, but just one of them was worth more than the entire District.

I tried to run to Hanna, but she ran to me instead, as I hobbled forward on my cane. She hit me so hard I almost fell backward, but she held me up with the force of her embrace. She clung to me with both hands, her head buried in my shoulder as she shook with emotion.

"You came," I said, and I leaned into her arms.

"Of _course_ I came," she said, looking up at me with confusion. "Why wouldn't I?"

"You still want me after everything?" I asked.

"After _anything,"_ she said.

* * *

 **Just one more chapter! Now it's becoming more clear another reason I chose Loki. There wasn't really that much strong feeling for him. No one really came to me and said they were just dying for Loki to win. That made him a more unusual pick for Victor. However, there's logic there. This time, I went meta. Loki didn't have any supporters (besides me and his submitter) in real life, so he doesn't have any in-universe either. Now it's my challenge to make him more popular after the fact and grow him into someone more people like.**


	55. Epilogue

Loki Saberhagen- District Seven male

The day after I got back, I finally gathered the courage to ask Hanna what I'd wondered for so long.

"Who sent me the knife? It was your idea, I mean, but who gave the money?" _Tell me it was my parents._ I knew it wasn't, but in the second as she drew in her breath, I could pretend one last time. She would tell me it was them, and explain why they hadn't come to see me at the station. They were just shy, or couldn't make it, or wanted to get ready to see their son.

"Me," she said.

"What? But where did you get it?" I asked.

"It was my inheritance. My mother's silver. For my wedding," she said. Hanna would never know it, but she broke my heart when she said it. All the fantasies were just that. There was no mysterious group of people who wanted me to come back. The empty platform at the station was its own answer. Other than Hanna, not a single person had been pulling for me.

"It's nothing," Hanna said, sensing my sadness but not the reason. "It wasn't a whole set or anything. Just three candlesticks."

"All for this," I said, looking down at the knife and the hand that held it.

"It was worth it," Hanna said.

* * *

Everyone stopped their work and stared when I arrived in the old lumberyard. Spruce broke off his conversation and came up to me.

"Anything I can do for you?" he asked.

"I just came by to see if you needed me for anything," I said. Silly as it was, I felt guilty that me getting Reaped had disturbed his schedule.

"Don't worry about that. We'll manage without you. You don't have to come by here again," Spruce said. His voice was flat, and I got the uncomfortable feeling he wished I'd never come by. I saw the same tense energy from nearly all my old coworkers, some of them the only friends I'd ever had, and I got the message.

"Right. No problem. Consider me retired," I said, and I left my workplace for the last time.

* * *

"Loki?" Hanna asked, a week into my new life in the Victor's Village. She came by every day, usually setting up shop in the kitchen while I did my physical therapy exercises in the living room. I'd told her she didn't have to go to all that trouble, but some people like fussing over the people they love.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Do you still want children?" she asked.

"I think so," I said. Ever since I met Hanna, we'd been planning on having at least one child. I wanted the entire family experience, and I looked forward to loving a child and being the best father I could be, even if I wasn't sure how. "If you think I'll be a good father."

"I think you'll be a _great_ father," Hanna said.

"Then yes, I still want children," I said. _They'll just never watch that tape. Never, never, never._

"I was hoping you'd say that," she said.

"Why?" I asked stupidly.

"Because I'm pregnant."

* * *

Our wedding was in the middle of the woods, far from prying Capitol eyes. Sven was the best man, and any Victors that could make it were honored guests. Hanna's draped lace gown distracted attention from her growing bump, which she informed me had been conceived shortly before I was Reaped.

"Oh, what's this?" I said after the guests had left. I took out the present I'd hidden under the table, pretending I'd just found it.

"Oh, I didn't notice that one," Hanna said. I handed it to her and she started unwrapping the silver paper.

"Oh, Loki," she whispered after she moved the tissue paper aside, revealing three silver candlesticks. "How?"

"It took me almost until the wedding to find them," I said. "Then it wasn't hard to get them. Relics from the Arena are worth so much to certain people, especially the knife that won the Games. I made the best deal in history," I bragged. "I traded something I never wanted to see again for someone I never want to take my eyes off."

* * *

Childbirth is the worst thing in the world for a man. It's no joyride for the woman, either, but those were struggles I couldn't understand. What I _could_ understand was watching the love of my life in pain and not being able to do a single thing about it. I could only hold her hand and try not to cry as she pushed.

My heart stopped working when I heard the cry. It fluttered, then seized up entirely. The midwife cut the cord and handed the baby to me.

 _He's the most perfect thing in the world. I would do anything to keep him safe._

I only got to hold Godric for a second. I passed him off to Hanna, knowing she wanted to see him just as much as I did. But in that second, I lived a life.

 _I'm going to love you so much,_ I promised my son. _I'm going to take care of you and tell you I love you. I'm going to teach you how to shave and whittle and play catch. I will never, never, never leave you on a doorstep. I would spend the rest of of my life in the Arena before I would leave you._

* * *

"Daddy!"

The school doors opened, and boys and girls streamed out, looking for their parents. I spotted my son running toward me, his dark hair gleaming in the sun. I picked him up in my arms and tossed him up. He giggled as I caught him, and it brought me joy deeper than I ever thought I'd know.

"I drew a picture! Let's show Mom," he said, refusing to let me see until we were home.

"I drew you," he said, pointing out each feature as he explained it. "There's Mommy," he said of the figure recognizable by the scribble of blonde hair. "Here's me," he said of the tiny figure holding the hands of the figures flanking him. "And there's you," he said of the final figure, recognizable by the yellow eyes he didn't know weren't normal. And the fact that I was as tall as the house behind us.

"I love it!" Hanna said. "Let's put it on the fridge."

"No!" Godric said. "I have to take it back tomorrow."

"Why?" Hanna asked.

"It's supposed to go on my chair. We all drew our families," Godric said.

Six years since my son had been born, and the word still made my heart flutter. It didn't matter that this picture wouldn't be on the fridge. There would be more, both from Godric and the brother or sister already brewing up inside Hanna. For the rest of my life, there would be more.

* * *

 **Finally, some actually good stuff happens to Loki. I broke the epilogue into episodes spanning a few years just to get the full picture in. The last part is in the future, so the next Games will take place before it happens and Godric will be a baby again.**

 **And so we finish another chapter in the 75 years of Hunger Games. For such a bizarre Arena, it turned out more normal than I expected. As usual, I'll pick right up into the next one. Reservations are kind of always open, so go ahead. I'll put the story up tomorrow probably. It's a voting Games, so if any already reserved people want to adjust or pull characters, that's fine. See you there, I'm sure.**


End file.
